The Reluctant Protector
by Paige242
Summary: After another family tragedy, Chris is forced to deal with his new fate. (Changed Future. Chris-Centric.)
1. Chapter 1

_This is what I wish we were getting as a Charmed Spin-Off. I hope you enjoy!_

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The warm light of the setting sun did not help to ease the mood in the Halliwell manor that evening.

Nothing could have lifted the spirits of those inside on a day like this.

Chris watched as the orange glow filtered through the stained glass of the sun room, casting a beautiful haze. Usually, he was not the most observant of people, and he probably wouldn't have noticed the slow advance of the light. But today, he was looking for any distraction from what was going on around him.

They had buried his Aunt Phoebe that day.

His beautiful, energetic, vibrant Aunt Phoebe, who had been taken from them in an instant less than a week ago. The demon had come so fast, and his attack had been swift—no spell, potion or healing could have brought her back. Her sisters had watched her crumble, and Chris could still remember their anguished screams from the other room.

Those screams rang in his head every night as he tried to drift into a restless sleep.

He and Wyatt had been next on the scene, and they had seen her body—already cold and lifeless—on the floor. Together, they had kept the demon at bay, and the four had managed a spell to banish him from the house. But the irreversible damage had been done.

Phoebe was gone. The power of three was broken.

And the Halliwell family was in shambles.

Chris knew that this was not the first time his mother had lost a sister. He had grown up with many stories of his Aunt Prue and they had even managed to summon her a few times in recent years. But that, of course, did not lessen the blow in any way. His mom was the last of the original sisters now. Everyone she had grown up with was now gone, and he could see the indescribable pain on her face.

Piper Halliwell may have been a tough, kick-ass witch but she could still be broken.

It was hard for the young man to see. He knew that he was helpless and could do nothing to ease her pain.

His father was currently holding her as she sobbed on the couch and a red-eyed Paige had her arm around Uncle Coop's slouched form.

Chris was not afraid to admit that he had done his fair share of crying too, but he was currently attempting to keep it together for the sake of the others. He'd somehow managed to make a basic dinner that evening, and he had spent over an hour with his arms around his cousin Prue as heart-wrenching sobs had racked her body.

As hard as it was to lose the Aunt he had loved dearly, he knew that he was not the one suffering the most that day. His heart broke for Prue, Parker and Peyton—his cousins were all still teens, and they had already faced unimaginable loss.

He had watched them all go through a variety of states that week. From numb with shock, to overcome with grief. The young man had done his best to be there for them but, once again, he knew that there was little he could do.

Nothing could make this easier for them, and the pain would never go away.

Closing his eyes, Chris searched for the three and let out a sigh of relief as he sensed them together in the attic. They had left the rest of the family in the living room a short time ago, and Peyton had mumbled something about needing space.

No one had stopped them, of course, but Chris (being the protective older cousin that he was) could not help himself from checking on their whereabouts every few minutes. He wouldn't have blamed them if they went on some sort of grief-stricken rampage, but the logical part of his brain knew that it would not be wise in their current state. The best way he could help, and honour his Aunt Phoebe, he figured, was to make sure that her girls stayed safe—and that was what he was determined to do.

"I think I'll go clean up the kitchen." Wyatt mumbled as he slowly rose from the chair on Chris' left. The younger brother nodded. It was probably best not to leave all of those barely-eaten plates of food out over night.

He contemplated helping, but Melinda beat him to it as she silently followed their oldest sibling towards the kitchen.

As he watched his brother and sister disappear from sight, he could not help an unwanted thought from crossing his mind. Now that Aunt Phoebe was gone, and the power of three was broken, their family was more vulnerable then they had been in a long time. His mother and Aunts had done so much to protect them over the years, and he wondered if this horrible event was a signal that it was time for the younger Halliwells to step up to the plate.

Like his mother, Chris had always wanted a normal life and (understanding his impulse) she had often said that she would fight for him to have that chance. But, like it or not, the young man knew that he would never be normal. In fact, as a witch and a whitelighter, he was far less normal than even his mother and his chances at a magic-lite existence seemed slim. And now, despite his own desires, part of him wanted nothing more than to protect his family from further pain. He had never been the strongest fighter, but maybe if they could hone their skills, they could take the burden off of his mother and Aunt Paige as they dealt with their loss.

The sisters had done more than their share to protect the world.

They had suffered enough.

Perhaps it was their turn now.

With a deep sigh, Chris redirected his gaze to the orange beam of light on the floor. He hated that he was thinking about demon fighting at a time like this. But, even though he knew they all needed a break, things were never that easy for the Halliwells. In fact, he though with a scowl, the underworld would probably be sending a stream of attackers after them now that they were weak and mourning.

There was nothing fair about it but there was also nothing they could do. Like it or not, they were the world's strongest magical family and they would always be targets.

Unable to dwell on that thought any longer, Chris looked around for any mundane distraction. After a moment, his eyes fell on the grandfather clock and he mindlessly watched the pendulum swing back and forth beneath the glass.

One, two, three.

His eyes traced the ornate patterns on the round piece of metal as it moved in its repetitive motion. He willed himself to be hypnotized by it. As dull as it was, anything was better than focusing on what was going on around him.

He wanted his mind to drift away.

Ten, eleven, twelve.

The young man began to feel the calming effects on his body until a very sudden and unanticipated buzzing sound suddenly broke him from his trance.

He jolted into an upright position and quickly looked around the room. He had no idea what had caused the loud and unpleasant noise but a quick look at his family seemed to indicate that no one else had heard it.

His father caught his eye for a moment, clearly confused by his sons' odd convulsion, and Chris did his best to keep his expression calm. The last thing he wanted to do was worry anyone else at a time like this.

As discreetly as he could, the young man slowly stood up from his seat and walked into the hallway without giving his relatives another glance. The sound had been so sharp—painful even—and the effects were still vibrating in his head and he stumbled down onto the bench in the manor's entryway before finally letting out a long breath.

Perhaps it was just some sort of weird physical effect of his exhaustion and grief. Chris had always loved science and was currently excelling in his pre-med program at SFU. He knew that the human body was capable of many strange things, especially when under pressure, and he tried to let himself be reassured by the thought.

Then again, an unwelcomed voice in the back of his head reminded him, he wasn't exactly human…

Before he could contemplate it further, the sound intensified again. His head was consumed by it and he was vaguely reminded of the feeling of a dentists' drill. He raised his hands to massage his temples and gave a quiet groan as the pain slowly subsided.

He had never felt anything like this before, and his mind raced as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

Perhaps the demons were coming for them even sooner than he had thought. They were relentless, after all, and they would probably revel in kicking the Halliwells while they were down.

But of all the days, he had hoped that they would at least get some reprieve from the usual magical mayhem.

As he tried to calm himself with more slow breaths, he contemplated orbing up to the attic to see if the book had any insight. He could sense that his cousins were still there, however, and he really wanted to give them the space they needed. They had just buried their mother. They did not need him bursting in with a magical crisis.

He racked his brain, trying to think of any demon that was capable of this sort of thing. Barbas, maybe? He certainly enjoyed messing with them in subtle ways.

"Chris?"

The young man looked up to see his father quietly approaching. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he had not even heard the man's footsteps and his heart had jumped slightly at the sudden sound of his voice.

"Oh, hey dad." He replied, doing his best to regain his composure.

Leo looked tired, and his eyes were lined with red, but he still did his best to give his son a warm smile before sitting next to him on the bench.

There was a brief pause before the older man spoke.

"Are you okay?" His father questioned as he placed a hand on his son's shoulder.

Chris shrugged, not wanting to trouble his dad with the strange noise he had just started hearing. Leo had enough to worry about and Chris was determined to figure things out for himself.

"I'm okay as I can be, considering the circumstances." He replied, looking down at the old wooden floor.

Leo have his shoulder a light squeeze before letting his arm drop to his side. Chris could tell that there was something on his father's mind and he waited nervously for the man to speak again.

"Back there…" Leo began, tilting his head in the direction of the sun room. "You seemed to get a fright all of a sudden."

Chris silently cursed his father for being so damn observant. The man was a whitelighter, after all, and he had always been good at picking up on subtle things.

"Did something happen?"

The young man began to wave his hand dismissively but, before he could summon a proper response, the unwanted buzz surged through his head once again. Despite his best efforts, he could not suppress a wince of pain and he instinctively clutched his temples.

As it faded, he quickly recomposed himself and looked back towards his father with worry in his green eyes.

It was not reassuring to see a similar expression on the older man's face. Chris knew that he could not deny what was going on.

"I…just in the last few minutes…this terrible noise keeps ringing in my head. It's so intense that it almost hurts." The boy paused, trying to quash is growing anxiety. "I have no idea what is going on. Why me? Why today? I swear to god if some demon…"

"It's not a demon, Chris." His father cut in, halting his sentence. The older man ran a hand though his greyish blonde hair as he let out a troubled sigh. "I can't believe…I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" Chris asked, still confused. Apparently, his father knew what was going on but the young man was still in the dark.

There was a tense pause.

"It's the elders."

Chris felt his blood run cold as the simple statement left his father's lips.

His mind raced as he tried to come to terms with what this meant. Although he was half-whitelighter, he had grown up sharing his mother's annoyance with the powers that be. They always seemed to intervene when it was least convenient, and their arrogance rubbed him the wrong way. He hated feeling like they were their puppets and the crap that they had put his parents through over the years was enough to churn his stomach. He knew that, in their eyes, he shouldn't even exist. He'd always hoped that they would leave him alone.

Why the hell would they decide to bother him on a day like this?

And what the hell did they want?

"The elders?" Chris managed to choke out, his mouth open in disbelief. "You're telling me that those sadistic bastards have decided to torture me on the day of my Aunt's funeral? Of all the messed up, stupid…"

"Chris, please." His father cut in gently, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder once more. "I know you don't like them, and I know the timing is terrible, but they are only working for the greater good. And, despite what you may think, they don't choose when our destinies unfold. They're simply there to guide us when they do."

Chris scowled. He had heard similar statements from his father before, and he knew that the man understood better than most. He had been one of them for a period and Chris could remember all the drama that had occurred almost a decade ago when they had unclipped his wings and reassigned him as the Charmed One's whitelighter.

His mother had been furious, of course. But his father had accepted it in stride, explaining that nothing could be done to fight the will of the universe.

A sudden, and worrying, thought crossed the young man's mind. "Is this the sound you heard when they summoned you back to whitelighter duty?" Chris asked, looking towards his father.

The older man paused, clearly thinking back to that time. "Is it sort of like a loud buzz? That vibrates in your head, almost like a dentists' drill?"

Chris felt his stomach plummet as he listened to his father's adept description.

"Yes." He whispered, trying to ignore his growing nausea as the implications began to sink in. "But this can't be happening. They can't make me be a whitelighter. Aunt Phoebe is gone, I need to focus on helping mom and Aunt Paige. I don't want this. I can't do this. I'm not one of them."

Chris knew that he was rambling, but he didn't care. He could feel a panic spreading through his body and he desperately tried to think of a way to get himself out of their terrible situation. His mother would be so disappointed in him—she supported his drive for a normal life and had been helping him plan excitedly plan for medical school. Magic had already taken so much from her. She wouldn't want a whitelighter for a son. A call from the elders could throw everything off track.

It would make everything worse than it already was.

"I can't." Chris repeated, his voice breaking.

He could hear his father draw a deep breath beside him and he looked over to see the deep guilt and regret in the man's eyes.

"You were born a whitelighter, Chris. There is nothing you can do. Nothing I can do. It's my fault, and I'm so incredibly sorry."

"No, Dad—"

His sentence was cut off by a fresh wave of head-shaking pain and Chris let out another anguished moan. This time, it seemed even more intense then before.

He wondered how bad those bastards would let it get.

One thing was for certain, he could not live like this. Something had to be done.

As the sound subsided, the young man drew a shaky breath and stood up from his spot. His anger had not abated, but his face was not set with determination.

"I'm going up there." He declared, doing his best to steady himself. "I'm going to tell them that I am not their pawn and that this has to stop. Now."

Leo looked ready to say something in response, but instead he simply nodded and gave a soft "okay."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No" he replied, determined to fight his own battles. "You stay with mom. I'll be back as soon as I can." Chris continued, glancing back towards the sunroom where the rest of the family had (thankfully) remained. "If mom asks, tell her I went for a walk to clear my head."

His father nodded again and, with one final breath, Chris allowed the world to dissolve into heavenly blue.

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	2. Chapter 2

When Chris rematerialized, he had expected to find himself in the main chambers. That's what he had been aiming for, after all, and Christopher Halliwell had had always been accurate with his orbing.

But, much to his surprise, he found himself in a room he had never seen before. The pure white décor told him he was definitely in the heavens, but this was not a place he was used to seeing. For a brief, blissful second he thought that he was alone, but the sound of a pointed cough quickly told him otherwise.

The young man turned to see a row of ten elders, all seated on ornate golden thrones on the other side of the chamber.

He recognized most of them (unfortunately), and his face hardened as he attempted to stare them down. Now that he was here, he was more determined than ever not to relent.

"Christopher." A grey bearded man who he knew as Maxwell stated, offering the young man a polite nod. "Please, step a bit closer."

Chris wanted to protest, but he figured that it would be easier to tell them off if he did move forward and he reluctantly obliged. He took a few steps to the centre of the room before looking back up at the ten so-called angels, his eyes narrowed with anger and resolve.

"I'm not here to answer your call." He stated firmly, wanting to make his intentions clear right off the bat. "I only came to tell you that you need to leave me, and my family, alone."

He watched, satisfied, as a few of the elders exchanged worried looks. Perhaps this would be easier than he had assumed.

"We've already sacrificed so much for the greater good." He continued, his confidence growing as he spoke. "Two of my aunts have now made the ultimate sacrifice, and enough is enough. My family has suffered more than their fair share. I can't believe that you actually had the nerve to call me here today, of all days. But at least this has given me the opportunity to tell you to leave us the hell alone!"

Silence hung in the air, and Chris prayed that his plea had made it though their thick skulls.

After a moment, one of the female elders spoke.

"Are you finished, Christopher?" Sandra asked. If he didn't know better, he would have interpreted her expression as one of sympathy. But he doubted they had any compassion for the affairs of mere mortals.

Chris hesitated.

"I don't know." He replied, crossing his arms in front of him. "I guess that depends on whether or not you are willing to do what's right."

Sandra gave him a sad smile before Maxwell began to speak again.

"We understand that this may not feel right to you, especially now, but please know that we are all fighting for the same cause." The elder stated calmly. Too calmly for Chris' taste. "We do not decide your fate, we are simply here to guide you when the time comes. We feel your loss and sympathize with your pain—but even the loss of a Charmed One cannot stop the universe from pushing forward."

Chris snorted, his arms still stubbornly crossed. "Okay, whatever." He remarked with a trademark roll of his eyes. "How about I leave you guys here to talk about your cryptic destiny crap while I get back to my grieving family. In peace."

Hoping that they had gotten the message, Chris closed his eyes to orb—only to realize, much to his displeasure, that his power had been blocked.

Eyes flashing with rage, he glared at the council. "Let me go." He demanded.

Sandra shook her head sympathetically. "We can't, Chris." She stated. "The wheels are already in motion and you cannot leave until we talk to you about your new charges."

Chris' stomach flopped. Apparently, his pleas had fallen on deaf ears after all.

He should have known.

"Charges!?" He exclaimed, his voice wrought with more emotion than he had intended. "No way. I'm not a whitelighter and I am certainly not your lacky."

None of the elders flinched at his protests.

"You have been a whitelighter for twenty-three years." Sandra began again, his voice just as steady as before. "And now it is time for you to follow in your father's footsteps."

The young man scoffed once more and threw up his arms in frustration. Talking to them was like talking to a brick wall. But, thankfully, he was not one to back down from a fight.

"I know that's not my destiny." He protested, his eyes still narrowed. "And I know my father does not want that for me either. Like I said, we have all sacrificed enough already and we deserve to be left alone! I am going to medical school next year, and my siblings and cousins are going to follow whatever paths they choose too. My mom and Aunt Paige have lost too much and, if you know what's good for you, you'll leave them alone. End of story."

There was another long pause as several of the elders exchanged more annoying glances. Chris had to fight to keep himself from shouting with frustration.

"As much as we wish evil would relent, you know that things are not that simple." Another elder noted as he leaned back in his golden chair.

Sandra spoke again. "Trust me, I wish your family could have a break from all of this—but plans to strike while you are weak are already brewing in the underworld. We need to move forward before you all pay an even greater price."

"Find someone else to fight your battles." Chris shot back, trying to ignore his growing sense of worry. Truth be told, he had suspected that similar demon activity might be afoot. Like it or not, it was probably only a matter of days before they would have to summon the strength to fight again.

But that did not mean he had to become a pawn of the elders.

"I'm only a half-breed." The young man pointed out, his eyes falling on a few of the elders who he knew disapproved of his very existence. Surely they did not want him here either. "I'm sure there is a real whitelighter out there that will be keen to do your bidding. But it's not me."

Maxwell leaned forward this time, a hand stroking his long bead. "We have watched you grow Christopher." He noted with another faint smile. "You have mastered every whitelighter power and there is no one more qualified than you for the task at hand. Please, just hear us through."

"Fine. Clip my wings if that's what it takes." He shot back before the elder could continue.

Several of those present looked mortified by the thought and Sandra rapidly shook her head.

"That would kill you, Chris." She stated, clearly unsettled by the thought.

Surprised, the young man stared at the council, his mouth open in disbelief. "Kill me?" He managed to stutter, his mind rushing to think of an explanation for that. "How? You've clipped my father's wings before, and that didn't kill him. That doesn't make any sense. This is clearly another one of your lies."

"It's not a lie." Sandra replied quickly, her tone laced with seemingly genuine pity. "Regular whitelighters, including your father, were human once. Mortal. When their wings are clipped they are able to revert to that state. But you," she paused, drawing a breath. "You were born this way. You have no other way of being that you can revert to. Clipping your wings would be the equivalent of tearing you in two. You may be half human, but you can't survive your other half being ripped away."

If there had been an empty chair nearby, Chris would have stumbled into it. It took all of his strength to remain steady on his feet.

Of course he had know that he, Wyatt, Melinda and Paige were unusual, but he had not expected this. In his quest for a normal life, he had always secretly liked the idea that his powers could be taken away if need be. They were handy to have, of course, and he didn't really want to lose them—but it was nice to think that it was an option. But, if the elders were correct, maybe things weren't as simple as he thought.

"It's starting, Sandra, we need to tell him." Another female elder said softly, looking between the young man and the elder who had been most forthcoming.

A few of the others nodded in agreement.

Chris had no idea what "it" was, but he had to admit that his curiosity was starting to get the better of him. He still had no intention of doing their bidding, but it couldn't hurt to figure out why they had summoned him at such a terrible time.

"Alright, enough with the whispers and the cryptic crap." He began gruffly. "I'm not agreeing to anything, but you can at least tell me why you called me up here. What could possibly be so damn important?"

There was another long pause before Sandra spoke once more.

"You're the Charmed Ones new whitelighter." She said softly, her eyes pleading with him for understanding and compliance. "Like it or not, this has been your destiny since before you were born, and there is nothing any of us can do to stop it."

Chris starred at her in disbelief.

None of this made any sense.

How could she possibly be saying this with a serious face. Was it some sort of sick joke?

"Aunt Phoebe is dead." Chris said, his eyes wide with disbelief as he choked out those difficult words. "The Charmed Ones are finished, unless you're going to tell me that my mother has yet another long-lost sister out there." He rolled his eyes, thinking about the unlikeliness of that scenario. "And besides," he finished. "My father is their whitelighter. They don't need a new one."

This was all simply ridiculous.

"Your father will continue to protect your mother and aunt, but it is time for you to guide the next generation." Maxwell explained with a reassuring nod. "You will follow in his footsteps."

"The next…" Chris began, his eyes even wider than they had been before.

His stomach flopped once more as he tried to come to terms with what that meant. In all the grief and pain of the past week, he had taken some solace in the fact that part of his family's magical burden was now over. Being the Charmed Ones mad his mother and aunts targets and, now that the power of three was dissolved, he had assumed that they would be able to take a much-needed step back.

And perhaps they still would. But, apparently, the prophecy of the Charmed Ones would still fall on the Halliwells.

If he was destined to be their whitelighter, that probably meant that the burden would not be bestowed on him and his siblings. And Paige only had two biological children.

Which probably meant that…

"No!" Chris exclaimed, incensed once more as the realization sunk in. "They just lost their mother! And they're too young. You can't do this to them! You can't!"

Prue, Parker and Peyton were broken from their loss. And they were even younger than he was. Younger than their mothers had been when they had been given this burden! Pure had just started college, and Parker and Peyton weren't even finished high school yet.

There was no way they could be the new Charmed Ones.

It wasn't fair.

Some of the elders hung their heads in sympathy.

"We don't decide these things." Sandra reminded him sadly. As much as he hated to admit it, he could sense that she felt some of his pain. "We do not control fate, but we can do our best to make this an easy transition." She paused. " _You_ are the key to that, Christopher. They need you to guide and protect them."

Chris could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest as a deluge of emotions swirled inside of him. He was angry, afraid, wary, sad—no longer for himself, but at the thought of his young cousins facing this fate.

"You need to stop this." He pleaded, looking at the members of the stoic council.

"We can't." Sandra whispered, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "It's already too late. The Charmed Ones have been reborn."

No.

Chris' head screamed in protest but he was too overwhelmed to voice it.

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP!"

"PLEASE!"

He heard familiar voices echo in his head and he looked towards the elders once more. It was too late for him too.

He knew that now.

"Go to them." Sandra urged, recognizing the look on his face. "You're their whitelighter. They need you."

As much as he wanted to protest, Chris knew that the elder was right.

Without another moment of hesitation, he finally orbed away.

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	3. Chapter 3

It was dark now.

And Chris was surprised to find himself in an unfamiliar park. Thankfully, his eyes adjusted quickly and he spun around to see his three cousins face to face with a large and dangerous looking demon.

"Shit." He muttered under his breath as he watched Pure stumble back from the impact of a fireball. Thankfully, it only hit her arm and his cousin still managed to throw the creature back with a blast of telekinesis.

Parker, for her part, was attempting to blast the thing with her newly acquired combustion but (since she had only gained that power a few months ago), she kept missing her mark.

The demon temporarily disabled, Chris rushed over to the girls and quickly go to work healing the oldest sister's arm. Prue looked surprised to see him for a moment, but she smiled gratefully as her pain eased.

"Chris!" Peyton exclaimed, also relieved to see her cousin arrive. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault! I had a vision of this thing attacking an innocent and we came to stop it, but it's way more powerful then we thought!"

"It's not your fault," Chris assure her with a warm smile before turning to the middle sister. "Parker, do your best to clear your mind before you blast him. And keep your eyes focused on his head. That's his weak spot."

The girl nodded and. Just as the demon began to stumble to his feet, she successfully knocked him back down with a blast of power.

He gave a roar of rage as he fell back onto the bloody grass.

"That won't keep him down long." Chris said quickly, his eyes on the brute. "He's an upper level demon, you need to use a power of three spell."

The girls all looked at him in confusion and he quickly shook his head. "There's no time to explain, you have to trust me." He paused. "Try a basic one. The power of three will set you free."

Still confused, but focused on the task at hand, the three instinctively locked hands and turned their attention to the demon who was once again regaining his strength.

"The power of three will set us free."

They chanted, all three sets of brown eyes set with determination.

"The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free."

As they repeated the mantra, the demon began to roar with pain.

Chris took a step back as he watched the scene unfold. Smoke was beginning to rise from the ugly creature and, despite all of the stress they had gone through, the girls did not relent.

"The power of three will set us free!"

With one final, horrible, roar the demon burst into flames, leaving nothing but a scorch mark behind on the grass.

The four Halliwells stood in silence, all trying to absorb what had just happened.

It pained him to think it, but there was no doubt in his mind that the elders had been right. If the power of three spell had worked, then his cousins really were the new Charmed Ones.

And it was too late to go back now.

"Where's the innocent?" Chris finally asked, looking around the dark field. "Do they need healing?"

Prue, always the leader of the pack, shook her head as she turned to look at her cousin. "No, he ran off before the demon go got him." She said after drawing a shaky breath.

After glancing briefly at both of her sisters, the girl looked towards him once more.

"What the hell just happened?" She asked, her eyes boring into his. "How did you know that a power of three spell would work?" She paused. "How is that even possible?"

Chris let out a ragged sigh. As their whitelighter, he supposed it would often fall on him to explain things. Perhaps it was better to stop fighting it, sooner rather than later.

He hated to think what would have happened if he had ignored their call that night.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk." He suggested, looking around the unfamiliar area.

Unfortunately, his cousins were not ready to oblige.

"No, here. Now." Prue replied, folding her arms.

Of the three, she was by far the most stubborn. Chris had always been close to her—they shared that trait, along with many others, and she was only two years younger than he was.

Parker was nodding in agreement and Chris tilted his head to see Peyton looking up at him, the wheels clearly turning in her head. The sixteen-year-old was very perceptive, and he would not be surprised if she figured it out first.

"Usually we have to call your name for you to hear us." The youngest sister said slowly, examining her cousin as if he had grown a second head. "But today, we didn't. You came when we just called for help." Before he could say anything. Peyton reached out and took his hand, her eyes slowly closing as she did.

The girl was very much like her late mother and had a variety of sensing abilities on top of her premonitions.

If he knew his little cousin, she was probably trying to read his aura right now.

"You feel like a whitelighter, Chris." The girl stated as she looked back up at him. "I mean, more than usual." There was a short pause. "Are you _our_ whitelighter?"

The three starred at him expectantly and he knew that there was no point in keeping anything from them, as unpleasant as it may be.

"Yes." He said, biting his lip nervously.

He could hardly believe that he was admitting it—and accepting it—so easily.

Just a short while ago he had been determined to turn the elders down, no matter the task. But as soon as he had heard their screams, he had known that he could not resist. These girls were his weak spot and he knew that he would give up anything to keep them safe.

Especially now.

The elders had probably known that too.

"Since when do we need our own whitelighter?" Parker asked, the strain and exhaustion evident in her voice. "Does this have something to do with the lights that started flashing in the attic?" She hesitated, realization dawning as she spoke. "Oh god, we're not—"

"No. No fucking way." Prue cut in, her brown eyes flashing as she looked between her cousin and sisters. "All of this prophesized destiny crap _killed_ our mother. She hasn't even been gone for a week! Her funeral was _today_! And they won't even give us one fucking moment to mourn!"

Chris knew exactly how she felt, there was no doubt that this was cruel and unfair, and he wished that there was a way to make it better.

"Prue, I'm sorry, but—"

The oldest sister glared, her eyes locking on his. "I don't want to hear the company line, angel-boy." She spat, seething with rage. "Orb back up there and tell them to leave us the hell alone! I am DONE with this crap. All of it!"

"I tried Prue, but…"

Before the boy could finish his reply Prue disappeared in a beam of pink light. For a moment, the park was filled with a warm glow that did not suit the current mood of any of the Halliwells present before a much more fitting darkness fell.

Chris heard Parker let out a shaky breath as she slumped against a nearby tree and slowly slid down onto the grass.

"We shouldn't have gone up there." She muttered, probably referring to whatever had happened in the attic earlier that evening.

The middle sister looked over at her cousin.

"We all felt a sudden urge to go to the attic." She continued, rubbing her tired eyes. "I guess a part of me thought that it was mom calling out to us," Parker's voice broke slightly as she spoke and Chris could tell that she was holding back tears. "At first, we just sat and talked—but then Peyton had her vision of the innocent and we all touched the book…"

"The room started rattling, and there were bright lights." Peyton continued, nervously running her hands through her long dark hair. "But we were so focused on the vision and we beamed out. I should have known. I should have sensed it."

Chris placed a reassuring arm around the teen's shoulders as he drew her in for a much-needed hug.

"None of us knew this was coming." He paused, shaking his head regretfully. "And as much as I hate to say it, I doubt we could have stopped it even if we did know what was about to happen." The young man let out a tense sigh. "You're the Charmed Ones now." He stated.

It felt weird to finally say it out loud but he supposed they would have to embrace it sooner or later. His mother and her sisters had, and they had done so much good over the decades. He hated to see his cousins burdened with this, and he was still seething with anger about the unfairness of it all—but it helped to think of the countless innocents who would live thanks to their hard work.

They had already saved one tonight.

That provided some comfort.

"Where do you think Prue went?" Parker asked, still seated on the soft ground. "Is she okay?"

Chris quickly sensed for her and gave the girls a reassuring nod.

"She's fine." He confirmed, happy to see the relief on their faces. "She's in the courtyard behind the Bay Mirror."

"Good" Peyton sighed before turning back to her cousin. "Maybe you should go talk to her."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Me?" He asked skeptically. "Do you really think that's a good idea? She seemed pretty pissed." The young man paused, wringing his hands uncomfortably. "Especially at me. I guess she sees me as a mouthpiece for the elders now."

He hated the thought. Prue had always shared his annoyance towards the elders—it was one of the many things they had bonded over. But now, it looked like he had betrayed what they both stood for.

He had orbed in to tell them about their destiny. He had sounded exactly like his father then he had told her there was nothing they could do to fight it.

For the umpteenth time that night, he cursed the fates for putting him in this horrible position.

"You're Prue's favourite cousin." Parker pointed out as she slowly began to get to her feet. "And now you're her whitelighter too. Isn't it sorta your job to guide her through difficult times?"

Chris shut his eyes for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I can try."

Peyton gave him a small reassuring smile and Parker shook her head in satisfaction.

"Okay, good." The middle sister (always the calmest of the three) said quietly. "I don't know about you, Pey, but I think I need to get some rest and process all of this. Are you coming?"

Peyton nodded and they watched as Parker beamed out.

It appeared that the youngest sibling was about to follow suit but she hesitated for a moment before turning to give her cousin one last hug.

"Thanks, Chris." She said as she slowly drew back.

"For what?" He asked. In his eyes, he hadn't done all that much—and she had just as much right to be annoyed with his as Prue did for revealing their fate.

"For protecting us." The girl replied. "I'm glad you're our whitelighter. I know mom would be happy about it too." She paused, mustering a small smile through her welling tears. "It's nice that we won't be stuck with some boring old guy like the last Charmed Ones were." She said with a playful wink.

Chris had to admire her ability to crack a joke at a time like this, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Hey now." He said in mock annoyance. "That's my father you're talking about."

The girl stuck out her tongue before finally disappearing in a blaze of pink.

Now alone, Chris allowed himself to smile for a moment longer. Peyton's words had meant more to him then she could possibly know and, full of fresh resolve, he orbed out to find the oldest sister.

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Chris had been to visit the Bay Mirror countless times, but he had not been back since his Aunt's untimely passing.

Ask Phoebe had many fans, and he was not surprised to see that a large memorial had been formed in the dark courtyard. Hundreds of people had left flowers and mementos during the past few days, and the newspaper had erected a large billboard with his Aunt's smiling picture.

The young man paused for a moment, looking up at the image as he fought back a lump in his throat. Even after the funeral, the reality had not really set in. For any of them.

It was so strange to think that she would not come bounding through the door, bursting with stories, at their next family dinner. She had always been so much fun, and so full of life. How could all of that have been snuffed out in an instant?

He hoped that he would always be able to remember that wide smile.

A quiet shuffling sound to his left caused the young man to turn abruptly. He was not surprised to find his oldest cousin sitting on a stone bench, also looking up at her mother's image. It was little wonder she had come here.

For a moment, he foolishly though that she had not noticed his arrival but her angry voice quickly corrected that misconception.

"Go away, _whitelighter_." The girl muttered, not even bothering to glance at her cousin.

Chris wondered if his first instinct had been right after all- maybe he should not have been the one to come—but it was too late to turn back now.

The young man took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. She was grieving, he reminded himself, and she didn't mean most of what she said right now. He couldn't blame her for her anger at a time like this.

"Prue, come on." He said gently as he took a few cautious steps in her direction. "I'm not just some whitelighter. It's me." He paused, seeing no response in her expression. "Your sisters are worried about you. You need to come home."

"If my sisters are worried then they can come get me." She retorted, finally looking in his direction with anger in her dark, tired eyes. "I'd rather talk to them than some mouthpiece for the elders."

Chris gritted his teeth at her jab, but did his best to maintain his cool as he sat next to her on the cold bench.

There was a pause as he contemplated the best response.

"You seem to think I want this for some reason." He finally said, turning towards his cousin. "But believe me, I don't."

The girl shrugged and looked away.

"The elders summoned me with some sort of ridiculous, painful buzzer and I went up there to tell them off. I couldn't believe they had the nerve to call me up there on a day like this and I fought as hard as I could." He paused, glancing briefly up towards the sky. "I even told them to clip my wings."

His last statement elicited a response and Prue turned towards him with surprise. "You did?" She asked, her eyes wide.

The young man nodded. "I meant it too. But—" he hesitated, recalling the unpleasant exchange. "Apparently that would kill me because I was born this way. They told me I've never been human and that means I never can be."

Prue let out a breath. "That sucks." She acknowledged. "I'm sorry Chris. I know you used to talk about giving up your powers if they ever got in the way of your plans."

He did his best to shrug nonchalantly. Truth be told, he was still trying to come to terms with things himself. It would take more than a few hours to accept it.

But there were more pressing matters at hand.

"The point is, I really did try, Prue. And I'll always do anything I can to make things easier on you guys, you know that."

For a moment, it looked like the girl wanted to protest but after a pause she simply nodded dejectedly.

"Fine." The girl muttered, letting out a tired sigh. "I'm sorry. I know you're not the enemy, Chris. And of course you're not just some whitelighter who is trying to manipulate us into following the powers that be. But—" She paused, "I don't want this. I didn't ask for this life. You know I've always wanted to be normal too and I guess I thought that, maybe, the universe would finally give us a break. After everything."

Chris looked down at the cobblestones as he gave his head a wary shake.

"Yeah, me too." He admitted. "I mean, I guess part of me always knew that we'd have to deal with some of this crap. But I definitely didn't think this would happen. Especially right now. How much can one family possibly take?"

Prue scoffed. "A lot, apparently." She said before looking back up at the poster of her mother. Chris could see the tears in her eyes, and he waited patiently as she leaned her head on his shoulder and let them fall.

Wrapping a protective arm around her, they sat in silence, gazing up at the woman they would always miss dearly.

"What do you think my mom would say?" Prue asked quietly as she ran one of her sleeves under her eyes. "Do you think she'd be pissed?"

Chris gave a small smile as he contemplated his response.

"She'd probably be pissed at first." He replied honestly, picturing his Aunt in one of her trademark frenzies. "She'd probably threaten to kick a few of the elders' asses too." Prue chuckled through her tears. "But," Chris added, giving the girl a reassuring squeeze. "I bet a part of her would be proud to see her girls carry on her legacy as well. She took a lot of pride in what she and her sisters did, and she always understood its importance. As much as she'd hate to see you in danger, she'd be cheering you on."

Prue wiped her eyes again as she nodded in agreement.

"Yeah." She agreed, her voice weak with emotion. "I think you're right about that." The girl paused. "She'll always be cheering us on."

That sat for a moment longer both hoping that, where ever she was, she was already proud.

"We should both get some rest, Prue." Chris pointed out as he slowly rose and offered his cousin a hand. "It's been a long, hard day."

The girl could not disagree and she accepted his assistance. "Thanks, Chris." She said, pulling him into an embrace. "And sorry for yelling at you earlier."

"It's already forgotten." The young man replied before orbing them home for some much needed sleep.

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	4. Chapter 4

"They are CHILDREN, Leo!"

Before he even made it down the stairs, Chris could hear his mother shouting from the kitchen.

As he had drifted off to sleep the previous night he had briefly wondered how she would take the news—by the time he had gotten back home, his mother had gone to bed and he had managed a brief conversation with his father before stumbling into his room and collapsing from exhaustion.

His dad, always the more level headed of his parents, had taken the news fairly well. He had looked concerned, but there had been definite pride in his eyes as well when Chris had told him about his new role.

His mother, however, would be an entirely different story and Chris braced himself for the worst as he reluctantly walked into the kitchen.

He paused in the doorway for a moment, surveying the shards of broken plates currently littering the ground. The young man was willing to bet that this was the work of his mother's explosive power.

It took a second for the woman to catch sight of him but, as soon as she did, she came rushing in his direction and pulled him into a tight hug.

Well, at least she wasn't mad at him, he thought with relief.

"Christopher!" She exclaimed, uncharacteristically using his full name. "Sweetheart, we are going to fix this, I promise!"

He let her cling to him for a bit, but he soon had to beg for mercy. "Mom, please, you're hurting me." He choked out.

She apologized as she drew back and then quickly ushered him towards the table where a large stack of banana pancakes was waiting. Although they were his favourite, he looked up at her with wary confusion.

He had expected her to yell at him, not to cling to him and treat him to his favourite breakfast. She was behaving oddly, not that he could really blame her for it the day after her sister's funeral.

The young man looked towards his father, in search of an explanation but the older man simply shrugged. Leo was probably just as confused—she had been yelling at him a moment earlier and now she was hovering over their youngest son as if he was six years old again.

"Would you like syrup or jam, sweetheart?" She asked, placing a hand on his cheek as she spoke. "You know what, I'll bring you both!"

Piper bustled off towards the cupboard and he watched his father cautiously back away as she passed. She did not acknowledge her husband and quickly retuned to sit next to her son, the promised items in tow.

Before he knew what was happening, she had coated the pancakes in syrup and jam for him and looked up expectantly.

"Don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart. Just enjoy your breakfast." She said before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "We're going to sort everything out."

Piper turned, her expression visibly darkening. "Aren't we, Leo?"

His father let out a gentle sigh as he looked towards the table and Chris could tell that he was trying to choose his words carefully.

"As I was saying, Piper." The whitelighter began cautiously. "Even the elders can't fight fate. I'm not sure what we can do."

Chris could feel his mother tense and he braced himself for an outburst. She was not always the best at listening to reason.

"He's too young, Leo." The woman snapped back, clearly forgetting her earlier attempt to be calm. "He's not even done college! And lord knows he has already sacrificed enough. I'm his mother and if Chris wants a normal life, I am going to fight until he gets what he deserves."

"Mom, it's fine." Chris cut in, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. There was already so much to deal with, and he didn't want his parents to argue on his behalf.

He had never been fond of conflict.

"It's not fine, Christopher." She retorted, finally directing some of her anger at him. "They can't do this to you! I won't let them turn my son into a whitelighter! This is not how things are supposed to be! You're not one of them!"

Chris was somewhat surprised to feel a flash of anger run though him as his mother spoke. Sure, he was not thrilled about the situation either—but it hurt him more than he had expected to hear her statements.

Pancakes forgotten, the young man stood up abruptly.

"Sorry if I'm a disappointment to you, mom." He replied, roughly tucking in his chair. "But if you didn't want your son to be a whitelighter then you probably shouldn't have broken the rules and married one. But, like it or not, you're stuck with me now."

Incensed, Chris threw a handful of orbs up towards the ceiling to emphasise his point. "I'm never going to be normal. Deal with it." He paused. "Or don't"

Before he could take another step he felt his mother's hand on his arm and softened as he looked down to see the hurt in her eyes.

"Chris," She began, much more gently then before. "You know that's not what I meant."

After a moment, he let out a breath and nodded.

He knew that.

Of course he did.

But he had been so worried about her disappointment and rejection that he had quickly leapt to the worst possible conclusions.

"I love you, and your brother and sister, exactly as you are." She continued before shooting her husband an apologetic glance as well. "I'm just worried about you. And your cousins. I know better than most what a huge burden has been cast on you all—and no mother wants her child to experience that kind of danger and pain."

Chris nodded as he slowly sank back down into his seat. Piper quickly sat down beside him and they both waited for a moment as Leo made his way to the other side of the table.

He could sense the concern radiating off of them both.

The young man took a breath.

"I know, mom. I get why you're worried." He conceded. "And you're right, this isn't exactly what I imagined for myself." Chris gave a small smile. "I may have inherited dad's powers, but I got your terrible stubbornness." He noted. "I did not accept this without a fight."

His father smiled and his mother gave him a playful swat on the arm for the comment on her demeanour.

"I was up there last night, telling the elders off for summoning me—but then I heard the girls crying out for help and I knew what had to be done. They needed me, mom, and I know that I can do this better than some random whitelighter the elders might assign." He paused, feeling an all-too-familiar lump forming in his throat. "And I realized that I do want to do this. For Aunt Phoebe. I know she'd want me to be the one looking out for them."

His mother brought a hand to her chest and he could see the tears instantly begin to well.

"Sorry mom, I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no, you didn't." She reassured him with a pat on his arm before wiping away her falling tears. "Sometimes I'm not sure what I did to deserve such brave and wonderful children."

He tried not to flush at her comment. Piper Halliwell could be surprisingly mushy at times, especially when it came to her sons and daughter.

"But still, Chris." His mother began again, trying to regain her composure. "You're only twenty-three, and this is going make your life so much more complicated. How are you going to be the Charmed One's whitelighter and get through medical school? And don't even get me going on your poor cousins. They're dealing with the loss of their mother, for goodness sakes. How are they supposed to handle this? Prue just started college, Parker has six more months of high school, and Peyton is only in the eleventh grade! This is insane!"

Chris gave a sigh and looked down at the old wooden table. "I don't disagree with you, mom." He said softly. "But, like dad said, I don't think there is anything we can do. Phoebe is gone, and the power of three has shifted to the next generation. You couldn't stop it when it was your turn, and we can't stop it now."

Piper looked like she was searching for a retort but, unable to find one, the woman simply leaned back against her chair, glancing between her husband and youngest son.

"God, you really do sound like your father sometimes." She muttered, her slight annoyance laced with undeniable amusement.

Chris looked over at his dad who gave him a quick wink.

"What can I say, I learned from the best." The young man commented, eliciting another glow of pride from Leo. Despite the stress of it all, his father's clear support did make things easier. He'd had an excellent role model growing up and, as soon as the man had gotten his powers back, he had trained all three of his children to the best of his ability.

In practice, this had meant a lot of time spent with Chris, who had inherited more whitelighter powers then both of his siblings combined. Wyatt could orb, sense, heal and had telekinetic orbing. So far, Melinda could only orb. Chris, meanwhile, had every whitelighter ability and had proven to be a natural at a young age.

He had even begun to follow his father's path in the mortal world, channeling his desire to heal into his drive towards becoming a doctor.

In retrospect, this turn of events should not have come to a surprise to anyone.

Chris paused for a second, his senses suddenly alerting him to a new presence in the house.

"The girls just beamed into the attic." He noted, standing up from his chair once more. "I should go check on them."

"Okay." Piper agreed with a defeated sigh as Leo nodded in approval.

"If you need any help. With anything. You know I'm here for you Chris." The older man said as his son began his stride towards the door.

"I know." He replied, looking over his shoulder as he reached the threshold. "Thanks, dad. I love you guys."

And with that, Chris disappeared from view.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Piper and Leo watched their son make his exit before turning back towards the family dining table.

The former Charmed One sighed as her husband reached out and placed a gentle hand on top of hers. Truth be told, she was glad that their argument had passed and, although nothing had resolved in the way she wanted, her son's calm reassurances had helped her feel better about the current predicament.

She wasn't ready to give up on finding another way forward, but she was undeniably exhausted. If Chris was content, she would let him carry on until they could think of another plan.

"Piper." Leo began slowly as he gave her hand a light squeeze. "I know it's hard, but we shouldn't be too surprised by this." He said softly. "He's already spent two years as the Charmed One's whitelighter, after all. And we've known for a long time what his powers seemed to suggest."

The woman bit her lip as she tried to accept her husband's calm assertions. Even after all these years, it was painful to think of the grown-up version of her son who had bravely saved the future. They had chosen not to tell the boys what had happened in the past, deciding instead to focus on the future that Chris had worked so hard to create.

During the past few years, however, they had all been filled with bitter-sweet memories as her son had grown into a young man identical to the one they had once known. He was just as brave and handsome as he had been before—but, she was glad to say, he had not been burdened by the horrible experiences of his counterpart.

His brother had never turned, his mother was still alive, and he had developed a very close relationship with his father.

As Piper had just pointed out, Leo and Chris were very similar most of the time. They'd had similar mannerisms in the past too, which she began to notice after Chris' true identity had been revealed, but in this future their bond was even more apparent.

This Chris had not had to fight nearly as much as his other version had been forced to. As a result, he was much calmer and more level headed and he generally preferred healing to aggression. The boy had always been wise beyond his years and, as recent events had demonstrated, he embraced challenges with a strength and insight that she attributed to her husband.

"I suppose you're right." Piper replied, grateful that the man had not been scared away by her earlier outburst.

She had not really meant to take out her grief and anger on him, but when he had walked into the kitchen that morning and told her what had happened to Chris and his cousins last night, she had lost her cool.

It was just a lot to take in, especially after everything else that had been going on that week. The woman had been in a pain-filled daze ever since she had watched her sister fall to the demon and (understandably) her emotions were even more frayed than usual.

As unfair as it all seemed, the logical side of her brain knew that this was simply the hand they had all been dealt. Every time something terrible happened to the family, she would pray that they had finally paid their dues. That they would finally be allowed to live the normal lives they wanted.

But things were never that simple for the Halliwells. Their power came with huge responsibilities and there had never been any reprieve.

Deep down, she knew there never would be.

"I just hope they can handle it all." The former Charmed One sighed as she looked up at her husband once more.

As he gave a reassuring nod, Piper tried to calm herself by focusing on the biggest of all silver linings. Without magic—without their burdensome destinies—she never would have found her Leo. He always had been, and always would be, the best thing that had ever happened to her.

It always helped to remind herself of that during times like these.

He had given her love, and courage, and happiness—and three little angels of her very own.

She couldn't bear the thought of life without him.

"I know that Chris can do this." Leo replied, the proud smile once again tugging at his lips. "He has mastered his whitelighter powers and, even if he might not have picked this job, he will preform it with fierce loyalty and diligence. And I'll be there if he ever needs any support." He paused. "And the girls—they're young, and I wish this could have waited, but they're powerful witches. They spent their entire lives watching the example set by you and your sisters." There was a thoughtful pause. "In a lot of ways, they're a lot more prepared that you guys were when you became the Charmed Ones. You didn't know you were witches—but they've been honing their powers since they were born."

It was a fair point.

"I suppose." The Piper slowly agreed.

"And they'll have you and Paige to guide them." Leo finished, his voice softer than before.

They both knew that a third name should have been present, and an all-too-familiar jolt of pain passed through her as she thought of her younger sister.

She wondered how Phoebe would react if she was here. How she was reacting as she watched from the great beyond. Terrified? Angry? Proud?

Piper could not say for sure, but she was willing to bet that it was a combination of the above.

Eyes locking with her husband's, the woman let the tears begin to fall.

"We'll all protect them." She whispered, her voice quivering with emotion. "It's what Phoebe would want us to do."

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A/N- I hope a few people are enjoying this. Please review to keep me motivated!


	5. Chapter 5

Chris walked through the attic door to see his three cousins gathered around the Book of Shadows.

While it wasn't unusual for them to visit the manor (it was still the hub of the Halliwell family, even though Phoebe and Paige had moved out with their respective families) none of the sisters had ever been overly keen on wiccan duties and this was an unusual sight.

Prue, like him, had stoically done her part when necessary, but was eager to focus on her regular life. She had just started a college degree in psychology and had been loving her time on campus.

Parker was probably the most magically inclined of the three, but she tended to show more interest in her cupid side and sometimes tagged along with her father on his missions.

And the youngest, Peyton, had only recently been allowed to come along on a couple of vanquishes. She was only sixteen, and her powers were far more passive than other members of the family. Chris wasn't used to having her around for magic-related tasks.

For the most part, the magical duties had fallen to the original Charmed Ones and the Twice Blessed—quite frankly, Chris had always assumed that it would be his brother who took on the bulk of their families' duties when the time came.

But, after this unexpected turn of events, he supposed he would have to get used to his cousins taking charge.

There was no force of good more powerful than the Charmed Ones. Not even Wyatt.

"Hey Chris." Parker greeted him with a quick glance.

He returned the hello before surveying the room and taking a seat on the old couch that was nearest to the book.

"How did you know we were here?" The youngest asked, an inquisitive look on her face.

The young man tilted his head to the side before giving the honest answer—even though he was worried that they might not want to hear it.

"Ever since last night, you three have been on my radar at all times." He said. Chris was still trying to adjust to the feeling himself and he didn't want them to think he was intentionally spying on them. Prue's head snapped up from the book and she looked at him with wide eyes. "I mean, I've always been able to sense you if I tried." He explained, recalling how faint their presence used to feel in comparison. "But now, I can always feel where you are. Stronger than I've ever been able to feel anyone else."

He watched as Prue pursed her lips before drawing a deep breath.

"And you can't turn it off?" She asked, clearly hoping that he could.

Chris hesitated. "Er, I don't know." He replied, surprised by how insecure he suddenly felt by his inability to answer.

His father had always made this look so easy.

He knew it was silly but, as their older cousin, and their whiteligher, he felt like he should have all the answers. Chris tried to remind himself that he was just as new at this as they were and that he should not let his perfectionism bring him down.

But, while he'd always had whitelighter powers, this was the first time he'd been assigned charges. It was definitely a different feeling, and one that had been a bit of a surprise.

"I'll ask my dad later." He said, quickly thinking of a way to change the topic. "What are you guys looking for in the book?"

The girls exchanged a look and he could instantly see the seriousness in their faces.

Clearly, they were not here to do some lite reading.

"We need to find him, Chris." Prue replied after a heavy pause. "And we need to kill him."

The other two nodded in agreement and the boy instantly knew who they were referring to.

Him…

The demon who had killed their mother.

The creature had gotten to his aunt before there had been a chance to say a power of three spell. He had clearly been an upper level demon, and the best Chris, Wyatt, Paige and Piper could do together was banish him from the manor.

They were shielded from his attacks here now, but he was still out there some where and Chris understood why this would be their first priority as the new Charmed Ones.

The rest of the family had, of course, begun the task of finding the brute. Unfortunately, there had only been a very short entry on him in the Book of Shadows ("Quintu—very powerful upper level demon, requires the power of three" it read).

Chris had assumed that they would continue their mission sooner rather than later, but the emotional strain and stress of organizing Aunt Phoebe's memorial had taken precedence during the past couple of days. But even though that was still fresh and raw, he could understand why the girls wanted to refocus.

The Halliwells could not let Quintu live.

Justice had to be done.

And, unfortunately, his cousins were the only ones who could do it. Chris hated the thought of them having to face their mother's killer so soon after they had lost her—but if this was what they had decided to do, it was his job to support them.

"We talked about it." Parker stated, perhaps sensing that Chris was wary about their decision. "And we all agreed that this is what we want. Now."

Prue nodded in agreement. "None of us will be able to focus on helping innocents until we avenge mom." Her voice quivered as she said the last word and the young man watched as she struggled to keep her emotions in check.

He could see their fierce determination, and he did not want to question them for their choice. If he was in their position, he would probably be doing the exact same thing and he too wanted the murderous creature obliterated as soon as possible for what it had done to his family.

As long as no one else got hurt along the way.

"Okay then." Chris said, getting to his feet and walking over to join them at the book. "What have you guys been looking for? We know there isn't much about him in there."

Peyton nodded in agreement, her dark brown ponytail brushing against his shoulder. "Yeah, we know. But I thought we could take a look to see if there were any other upper level demons in here with similar powers. That might give us a hint about what kind of potion or spell we might need."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Chris felt a small smile tug at his lips. The teen might have been new at this, but her instincts were good and she was clearly adept at problem solving.

"Good thought." He commended with a nod. "And if you do find anything similar, the magic school library has books about demon families that may tell us more."

"Great." Prue replied, her finger quickly skimming across the page that lay open in front of them before turning to face him.

She gave him a look that he could not quite read—it seemed to be simultaneously amused and serious.

The young man looked down at his petite cousin, confused.

"What?"

This time, Prue gave a smirk and he knew his cousin was about to say something he wouldn't like.

"We were also thinking that you should go check with the elders." She replied, clearly entertained by the thought of her elder-hating cousin being stuck with the task.

Chris had to suppress a moan.

Everything had happened so fast since this had begun and the thought that he would one day have to do that had not yet crossed his mind.

But she was right, of course. They did sometimes have information and he was the only one of them that could go Up There. Chris had hoped that he wouldn't have to face the elders for a good long while after their confrontation last night—but clearly, he would not be that lucky. The sisters needed any help they could get, and that meant he would have to swallow his pride and go crawling back.

"I—well." He stuttered, failing to fully keep his composure. "Yeah, I'll go…check with the elders."

The phrase felt funny on his lips and for a moment he felt like he had been possessed by his father. That was Leo's line, not his.

But, he supposed, the time truly had come for the next generation and he would have to get used to filling that role.

Much to his displeasure, Prue gave a small snort of amusement before shooting him a quick wink. "Have fun, angel-boy." She said, using the childhood nickname she knew that he hated.

Annoyed as he was, Chris drew a deep breath and decided to let it slide.

Despite it all, it was good to finally see his cousin smile.

Chris orbed out, but not before giving her his trademark eye-roll.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Even though he had every intention of going to check with the elders, Chris had one stop that he wanted to make first. Unbeknownst to the sisters, he rematerialized in the sunroom where he had sensed his father sitting alone.

The older man placed down the newspaper he was reading and offered his youngest son a welcoming smile.

"Hey Chris, how are things going?" He asked warmly, his calm voice instantly making the young man feel better. His father had always had that effect. "Are the girls okay?"

Chris nodded as he took a seat in the nearest wicker chair. "Yeah, they're as well as can be expected." He answered, his eyes dwelling on one of the many flower arrangements friends and neighbours had sent over for the memorial.

He hesitated for a moment, briefly second guessing himself for coming down, before deciding to continue.

"I, errr, have a question." He admitted, his hands nervously tracing the woven pattern of the chair's arm. He was finding it hard to look his father in the eye as he spoke, but he hoped that he could manage to choke out his question.

He wasn't entirely sure why he suddenly felt so insecure. His dad was always supportive and Chris knew he would not be judged. But he supposed he had never been great at asking for help. Plus his father had worked so hard to help him train his powers over the years and he felt like a bit of a failure for not already knowing exactly what to do.

But, as one of his clinical biology professors liked to remind him, blazing ahead into the unknown was far worse than asking a simple question. It was true in medicine, and it was probably true now.

Chris finally broke his pause.

"So, the girls want me to check on something for them." He began, not yet ready to reveal the full mission. "And they asked me to, um," he hesitated, trying to get the strange words out once more. "Check with the elders. And I'm not entirely sure how." He finished quickly, a slight flush spreading across his cheeks.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to look up and found that his father was smiling in his direction. He seemed pleased rather than disappointed and Chris relaxed a bit.

"I mean, obviously it means talking to them." The dark haired Halliwell noted. "But I don't know how to get into that chamber I was in last night without being summoned. I guess that was their council chamber or something. Are they usually in there? Or is there a good chance I'll find one if I just orb into the main hall?"

Leo leaned back in his seat, still smiling. "Yes, that was the council chamber they summoned you to last night. But they only really gather in there for important moments."

Chris raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised that he had qualified as "important."

"If you orb into the main hall and used your senses to call out for an elder, one will appear." The man continued. "Do you remember when I taught you how to reach out to another whitelighter with your sensing power? That's what you need to do."

Chris nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more wary. "Yeah, I remember." He began, biting his lip. "But I never really practiced it much."

From what he could recall, it wasn't that different from regular sensing but, instead of just searching for a person you linked onto their consciousness and gave them the signal you wanted. It only worked with other whitelighters and Chris had never had much reason to use it.

"I'm sure you can do it." His dad said confidently, but the young man remained hesitant until a sudden idea crossed his mind.

Wordlessly, he closed his eyes and reached out with his senses, trying to do what his father had taught him many years ago.

He could feel it work instantly and, a few seconds later, a stream of orb lights filled the room.

"What did you just do, Chris?" His brother asked as he materialized, confusion evident on his face. "I was writing up some lessons plans and then it's like I felt you asking me to come. It was different than a regular call, though. It felt…deeper?"

Grinning, Chris hopped up from his chair and gave Wyatt a quick pat on the arm.

"Dad can explain." He said, feeling much better than he had before. It had worked, and he was ready. "I've gotta go!"

He disappeared to the sight of Wyatt shaking his head in bemusement.


	6. Chapter 6

"Christopher."

To his relief, Chris had managed to summon the elder who he had always felt least hostile towards and he let out a small breath as she appeared in front of him. Despite being an elder (and, often, the bearer of bad news) Sandra had always seemed to support the Halliwells and the young man had never seen her become as annoyed or short-tempered as some of the others.

As soon as he had arrived in the heavens he had decided to try calling out to her. The task had been just as easy as it had been when he summoned Wyatt, and he had received a quick response.

"What can I help you with?"

Friendly demeanour aside, Chris still flinched at her words. It had not even been twenty-four hours since their last confrontation. He had been firmly refusing to take up their task before feeling his cousins' panic and orbing away abruptly.

He was pretty sure that they had been watching events unfold ever since and were probably smugly congratulating themselves for convincing him to take on this duty.

He felt awkward and sheepish crawling back now, and he hated that they had gotten their way, but he tried to remind himself that some things were more important than his pride.

"The…Charmed Ones." Chris began, still finding it odd to speak of his cousins in such a way. "They have decided to go after Quintu, but it is hard to find much information on him." He paused, trying to suppress his memories of the creature. The last time he had seen it, it had been tearing his Aunt apart…

"I think my father came up to ask you for information last week, and I don't think he had much luck—but the girls wanted me to come, just in case anything else has come to light."

Sandra smiled for a moment but quickly forced a neutral expression once more as she caught sight of his annoyance.

He did not want the elders to be happy about any of this. Not even the reasonably nice elder.

It boiled his blood to think of them gloating.

"Actually," She began with a nod. "We did discuss the matter in the council chambers and one of the others recalled a tome that spoke of similar demons."

The woman waved her hand and a small, but ancient looking, book appeared in her arms. Even before she passed it to him he could make out the title the adorned the cover: _Daemon Originale Familiae._

Original Demon Families, he mentally translated.

He accepted it from her with a thankful nod. Clearly, whatever they were dealing with was not some young and reckless demon. If this lead was any indication, the creature may have been amassing powers for millennia.

That did not bode well.

But, at the very least, it was good to be informed.

"Thank you." Chris said politely as he turned away, hoping to escape before the elder could continue their conversation.

If he was forced to come up here he could at least keep things short, he thought resolutely.

But, unfortunately, today did not seem to be his day.

"Christopher, wait." Sandra said, clearly sensing that he was keen to orb back down. He felt her gentle hand on his shoulder for a moment and he could not supress a flinch as he turned back around to face her.

Part of him wanted to be rude and simply disappear anyway but he decided that he could wait a moment. She had been helpful, after all. And they might require more help from the elders before this battle was over.

Once Quintu was vanquished, he could really let the elders have it.

"Yes?" He said tersely, hoping to keep the conversation brief.

The elder hesitated before continuing. "I know we did not leave things on the best of terms last night." She began, letting out a regretful sigh. "I'm sorry if you felt ambushed- I know that it's a lot to take in and I know that I can't fully understand what you must be going through." The elder paused again. "You, and your siblings and your aunt—you're the first people in history who did not choose this life. When I died, I chose to become a whitelighter. Your father did too."

Chris was unable to supress another flinch. Even though it was simply a fact, it still creeped him out to think of his father as dead. The man was nearly one hundred years old now, and his life had ended in a far-away war.

He was, of course, grateful that his mother had never been put off by those things (he wouldn't exist if she had been!)

But that didn't mean it wasn't super weird to think about.

He especially did not like to dwell on what it meant for himself.

The young man did his best to shrug nonchalantly. "Well, whatever." He remarked, hoping he sounded more relaxed than he felt. "I'm here now and I'm stuck like this, apparently. Doomed to be a freakish half-dead involuntary whitelighter."

To his surprise, Sandra snorted with amusement and gave him a pointed look. Apparently, she found his assessment somewhat funny. "You're not half-dead, Chris." She replied, still with a slight smile. "Whitelighters aren't dead either—they are souls who have been given a new, and very much alive, form. We are no longer human, but we are not dead."

Chris let out a small breath. That did seem to be a slightly better way to think about it—but the whole 'not human' thing did his head in too and it was hard to think of himself in that way. He certainly looked normal. All whitelighters did. But, he reminded himself, normal people could not dissolve into orbs of light. Not even witches could do that.

That required more than mere magic. It meant that someone was an entirely different type of being.

"Fine then." He conceded, only somewhat comforted by the distinction she had highlighted. "I'm doomed to be a freakish _half-human_ involuntary whitelighter."

That was a statement she could not debate.

The elder tilted her head, examining him for a moment before she spoke. "I hope you will come to see things differently one day." She said, eliciting a skeptical snort from the young man. "As I said, I cannot fully understand what it is like for one born into this role, but even if you had not been, so much of what you do and how you are makes me think that you would have been destined for this life regardless." She paused. "You're a natural healer, Chris. And while you may put up a barrier sometimes, I can see how deeply you care for those around you. You are braver and have achieved more than you will ever know."

He furrowed his brow in confusion at her last statement. Was she suggesting that he had done things that, for some reason, he could not even remember? That seemed odd, but he chose not to press it further.

"Well, if you're done psychoanalyzing me then I should probably get back to the girls." He stated, the book still firmly under his arm. "We need to get rid of this thing so that we can all get back to our normal lives."

Sandra opened her mouth, a thought clearly at the tip of her tongue, but after a moment she simply nodded.

"Okay." She agreed, offering him one last warm smile. "Be safe. And blessed be."

Chris knew he was supposed to return the sentiment but instead he mumbled a quick "thanks" before dissolving into a column of orbs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Even though he knew that the girls were no longer in the attic Chris decided to head there first. He wanted to do a bit of reading before they did anything else and he figured that they might want a bit of space.

He could sense that they were all back at their house now—they probably needed some time to unwind.

As he rematerialized, Chris was somewhat surprised to see that the attic was not unoccupied (he hadn't bothered sensing for anyone else). His brother and sister were both up there and it appeared that they had been talking abut something.

When they caught sight of him, however, silence fell.

"Hey." Chris said after an awkward pause. They were both giving him a look he couldn't read, and he was not sure what was going on.

Thankfully, his brother smiled and Mel appeared to relax in her seat.

Chris placed the book Sandra had given him on the nearest table before Wyatt spoke.

"Hey little brother." The blonde replied. "What's up?"

Chris shrugged as he flopped down into the chair across from them. "You know me, always researching something." He replied, keeping his answer vague. It had been a crazy two days, and he wasn't really in the mood to discuss everything right now. All he really wanted was a bit of peace and quiet so that he could begin his reading.

Both of his siblings glanced at the old tome he had been holding and Mel raised an eyebrow. "Not medical research, I see." She noted. "But I guess you're on a different path now, huh?"

Her voice was quiet—but something about her tone suggested that she was not pleased.

Chris let out a sigh.

The last thing he needed right now was their judgement. He was way too tired and preoccupied for that and his mind raced as he tried to think of a way to quickly make his escape.

"I guess mom and dad told you." He replied, letting out a long breath.

"Someone had to." Mel said, the bitterness far more evident in her voice this time. Chris wasn't sure what was upsetting her all of a sudden but clearly she did not like the situation for one reason or another.

Wyatt, thankfully, seemed calmer. Which was not really a surprise—Mel had always been far more explosive. She took after their mother in that way. It was a good thing that, unlike the older witch, she could not actually blow things up.

"Yeah, they told us." His brother said, shooting Mel a pointed look. "Mom's still not happy about it. Obviously." He noted. "I think dad is pretty proud, though. But he's trying to keep that to himself, for her sake."

Chris snorted, recalling his interaction with his parents earlier that morning. That seemed fairly accurate.

"Things have been pretty crazy." He admitted, chancing a glance at his sister whose arms were now folded across her chest. "Sorry I didn't get a chance to tell you guys myself. There was a demon attack last night and the girls needed me this morning and I was just…"

He trailed off, not really wanted to admit where he had just been.

Unfortunately, secrecy was not an option in the Halliwell household.

"Checking with the elders?" Mel finished for him, making no effort to hide her distaste.

Wyatt shot her another look.

He was accustomed to playing the peacekeeper between his two younger siblings. For some reason, Mel had always liked picking fights with Chris and he was too stubborn to back down.

It appeared that she was in one of her moods at the moment and Chris had to stop himself from directing his trademark sarcasm at her. He had never been sure why she always seemed to be jealous of him. Sure, he had more powers—but Wyatt had way more than both of them, and she got along with him brilliantly.

It probably had something to do with their time at school—Chris had always been an outstanding student and had set the bar pretty high for his little sister. But academics had never been her thing and she had developed a resentment of living in his shadow, especially during her rebellious teenage years.

They had managed to grow closer in the last few years, and he loved his sister dearly, but the tension still surfaced at times.

Apparently, this was one of those times.

Gritting his teeth, Chris gave a curt nod. "Yup." He replied as he watched his sister roll her eyes.

"I always knew that you were dad's golden-boy, Chris." The girl stated. "But I never really thought you'd actually be as lap dog for the elders."

Chris' eyes flashed as he felt his rage begin to boil.

She had no idea what she was talking about, and he opened his mouth to begin his retort.

Before he could, however, Wyatt jumped in.

"Come on now, we all know it's not like that." The twice-blessed said quickly, trying to diffuse the argument before it truly began. "I think we all need a break from this magical family stuff after what we've gone through over the past few weeks. Why don't we head over to that sushi place near my school that you both wanted to try? I think it would be good for us to just relax and catch-up."

Wyatt had begun a job teaching high school social studies that fall and the siblings had all met up for lunch nearby a few times. They had indeed discussed trying that particular restaurant soon but, as much as Chris wished that he could simply relax, he knew that this was not the time.

There was too much to do and his mind would not be able to focus.

"I'll have to take a rain check on that." Chris replied, glancing at the book he was keen to get started on.

As expected, his sister did not take that well.

"Figures." He heard Mel mutter under her breath, but the young man chose to ignore it.

"Nice try, Wy." She continued, turning to the eldest sibling. "But he always puts work ahead of everything else—first it was school, and now it's this whitelighter crap. He clearly has his priorities."

Chris scowled and forced himself to draw a couple of deep breaths before he replied. A few years ago, he probably would have incensed her with a verbal jab, but he really wasn't in the mood for one of their famous blow-outs.

"That's not it." He said, his voice as calm as he could force it to be in his annoyed state. "I'd love to hang out next week, but today just isn't a good day."

Mel snorted as she stood up from her chair.

"Whatever. I'm going to the club to start unpacking yesterday's shipment." She glanced over at the youngest brother. "Not that you care what I do. Have fun hanging out with your favourite family members."

Chris opened his mouth to reply but Mel quickly orbed out before he had a chance to say anything.

Quite frankly, he was relieved to see the orbs fade away. She always knew how to press his buttons and he was way too tired to deal with it at the moment. He'd mend things with her later, once she decided to stop acting like a brat.

These things always passed.

The young man slumped back in his chair before looking up at his remaining sibling. Thankfully, he and Wyatt usually got along—sure, there had been a few childhood scuffles, but there had never been the same sort of personality clash that he had with Melinda. Wy was easy-going and level-headed and the two generally worked well together.

"God, what's gotten into her?" Chris huffed, annoyed from the short but trying interaction.

Wyatt paused thoughtfully. "You know she's always been a bit jealous of you." He noted with a small sigh.

Chris snorted. "What? Does she want to be the Charmed One's whitelighter? Because I am more than happy to let her take over."

The older man shook his head. "No, I don't think so." He said with a slight chuckle. Mel had never been into whitelighter stuff at all. She was a skilled potion maker and had developed her combat skills—but her only powers were orbing and astral projection so she had never been too keen on magical duties. She always seemed happy enough to let her brothers take the lead on that while she focused on helping their mother run the club. "I think, in her weird way, she's actually just worried." Wyatt stated. "She may be stand-offish sometimes, but she does care about all of us and she doesn't want you to get hurt."

There was a pause before Wyatt continued.

"Plus, I think she's a bit miffed that it's your job to help the cousins. It's no secret that you and Prue get along well and I think Mel wishes you had that sort of dynamic with her, even though she doesn't show it."

Chris looked up at the slanted ceiling as he contemplated his brother's words. Although her behaviour seemed to suggest otherwise, maybe he had a point. She may have felt like she was in his shadow, but she admired him too and she had followed him around constantly when they had been little. As children, Chris and Prue had often told her to go away when they were hanging out—she was younger than they were, and they had not wanted her around. In retrospect, that had probably not helped matters.

"Yeah, maybe." Chris sighed, running a hand though his dark hair as he let out a yawn. It was only noon, but he was already feeling fairly tired. It had been an understandably restless night and he had woken up earlier than he had hoped.

"For what it's worth, I'll do anything I can to support you and the cousins." His brother said, offering him a somewhat sympathetic smile. "I'm worried too." He admitted after a moment of contemplation. "I mean, it's not that I doubt any of your skills—it's just a lot to take on, and I hate that the family still isn't free of its burdens."

Chris nodded in agreement. He shared that sentiment, as he had said multiple times the day before.

"Are you sure you can handle this and still follow through with all of the plans you've made?" The older brother finished with a note of hesitation.

For a second, Chris felt annoyed by the implied doubt—but truth be told, he wasn't entire sure of that himself. School kept him busy and he had just finished applying to some of the best medical programs in the country. He had been confident in his abilities on that front—after all, he was at the top of many of his classes and had always been a natural when it came to his studies.

But could he maintain that when he had to be available to help the Charmed Ones whenever a demon decided to attack? Would he have to miss classes and get behind? And how would he fare during his fieldwork if he had to keep orbing out? He couldn't very well disappear in the middle of an operation if his cousins' called…but he couldn't leave them in danger either.

There was no doubt that it would be a challenge but he supposed he would not know how bad it would be until he gave it a go.

He was resourceful. Maybe he could figure out a way.

"I won't know unless I try, right?" Chris replied, trying his best to stay upbeat.

Wyatt gave him another smile. "If anyone can do it, you can." He said with a nod. "My little bro is a genius and a badass."

The younger man let out a quiet laugh, thankful for the vote of confidence. "Careful, Wy, or I might start getting a big ego."

"Too late for that." Wyatt replied as he stood up from his seat.

"I'm gonna go make something to eat." He said as he took a few steps towards the attic door. "You want anything?"

The younger brother shook his head. "Nah, I'm good." He replied. "Too much work to do."

Wyatt gave a small sigh. "Okay." He conceded, clearly a little worried. "Don't forget to take care of yourself, Chris. And if you need anything, just holler."

Chris nodded before hopping up to grab the book he was dying to get started on. He appreciated his brother's concern, but he knew what he was doing and, as always, he would take up his task with laser sharp focus.

"Thanks, Wy." He said as he opened up the old tome and began to scan the index.

After one last worried glance, his brother left him in peace.

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A/N Reviews are much appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

Chris had to admit that he sort of enjoyed his day of demonic research. Sure, it was not his favourite topic of study, but he had always been an avid reader and he was keen to learn anything he could.

The book Sandra had given him had been a good start and he had eventually made his way to the Magic School library to do some follow-up work. He definitely had a few useful ideas about the vanquish now and had decided that he should probably touch base with the girls.

That was why he had orbed to his Aunt and Uncles house that evening—he could sense that Parker and Peyton were both home, and he figured that would be a good place to start.

Rather than simply barging in, he had materialized in the alley next to the house and knocked on the front door. Peyton had answered and he could immediately tell from her expression that she had not had a good day.

"Chris!" She exclaimed as she threw herself into his arms and gave him a tight hug. "I'm glad you came. I…" She paused. "Dad has been gone for hours and Prue and Parker don't want to talk and I don't really want to be alone."

Chris furrowed his brow in concern as she ushered him inside and closed the front door. Clearly, it had been a tense day in the house and he was happy to lend his support to the youngest sister. She had always been the most sensitive of the three—and had been extremely close to her mother—the last week had been rough on her and it was hard to see her cheerful demeanour masked by pain and grief.

The two cousins took a seat on the living room couch before Chris decided to press for more.

"What happened?" He asked, his eyes full of concern.

The girl drew a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself.

"Well," She began hesitantly. "We didn't really get a chance to tell dad about everything last night and, after we left the manor, we decided we should probably tell him."

Chris nodded. He was pretty sure where this story was going and he listened intently.

"He was pretty pissed off when we told him that we're the new Charmed Ones." Peyton continued, wringing her hands anxiously. "There was a lot of yelling. Prue got pissed off because she felt like he was trying to control us and Parker got upset too—you know how close she and dad are."

The young man nodded again.

"I tried to calm things down but dad stormed out, and then Prue disappeared and Parker locked herself in her room. I've been here trying to figure out what to do for the last couple of hours." The teen brushed a stray strand of dark hair out of her red-rimmed eyes. He could tell that she had been crying and his heart went out to her. "I get why dad is worried about us." She continued. "He said we shouldn't have to deal with this after everything we've gone through and I could see how terrified he was. And even though Prue doesn't want this either she got really offended by his overprotectiveness. I guess she thought he was doubting our skills as witches. I have no idea where she beamed off to."

Chris placed a reassuring hand on his cousin's hand. "She's fine." He said, quickly confirming her whereabouts with his senses. "She's just at her dorm. Maybe she needed to unwind with some friends after all of this madness."

The girl gave a small sigh of relief before shooting him a grateful smile. "Good." She muttered, glancing towards the hallway that led to the girls' bedrooms. "And is Parker still here?"

"Yeah." He confirmed, sensing the middle sister. "You know her—she's probably just listening to her music and pretending the world doesn't exist."

Parker had always hated conflict and tended to flee when faced with it. It was no surprise that she had gone off to be alone. She was a lot like her father and lived by the mantra 'make love, not war.'

The recent development of her combustion power had come as a surprise to all and the girl was yet to really embrace that destructive quality. Like it or not, she'd have to work on honing it now, Chris thought with a small frown.

Sometimes, war was the only option.

"You should have called me." Chris said, pulling the petite girl in for a tight hug. "I'm always there if you need me, not just for magic stuff."

The girl gave a small sniffle. "Thanks." She said softly as she leaned back against the couch cushions.

"Like I said, I get why everyone is upset, but the last thing we need right now is all of this tension. We just need to accept what is going on and get to work."

The young man smiled. "You've always been wise beyond your years, kiddo." He remarked, impressed by her level-headedness. She was only sixteen and yet it appeared that she was handling the situation better than anyone. Himself included. His mind briefly dwelled on his recent argument with his own sister before he quickly pushed the thought aside.

It had not been an easy day for any branch of the Halliwell family.

"Speaking of work." The girl continued, cocking her head to the side. "Did you have any luck with the elders?"

Chris nodded. "Yes, actually. They gave me an old Latin demonology book that had some information about Quintu's origins and I did a bit more research at the library. I think I have a few solid ideas."

"Since when can you read Latin?" The girl asked, her eyebrow raised.

He could not supress a chuckle at the look of her surprise. "Since always." He explained. "I can read and speak any language I need to. It's a whitelighter thing."

The girl glanced towards a backpack that was laying on the floor in the hallway and her eyes lit up with more excitement than he had seen from her in days. "So…does that mean you could write my French paper for me? It's due next week and you know how much I _hate_ that class."

He laughed again, happy for a moment of levity. "That's cheating." He remarked with a playful wink. "But, to be fair, I technically cheated my way though all of my language classes…" Chris paused, recalling how impressed his teachers had been with his perfect test scores. He hadn't really considered it cheating— he couldn't turn off that power even if he wanted to. It was simply natural for him and whitelighter powers weren't subject to the same personal gain rules. "You write it and I'll edit it." He promised, figuring she deserved at least a bit of a break.

The girl smiled, clearly pleased by the idea.

"But for now," Chris began again. "Maybe we should see if we can get your sisters together so I can tell you all what I found out." He paused, thinking of the best possible strategy. "How about I orb over and talk to Prue and you see if you can get Parker out of her room? We'll meet back here as soon as he can."

The youngest sister nodded in agreement. "Sure, I'll do my best." She said as she stood up and took a few steps towards Parker's room. As she reached the threshold to the hallway, she stopped and turned around.

"It's going to be easier eventually, isn't it?" She asked, her eyes wide as she looked at her cousin hopefully.

He wised that he could giver her a better answer but he decided to be honest. "I don't know, Peyton." He said with a quiet sigh. "But I hope so."

She nodded, satisfied enough with that, before disappearing from view.

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After orbing into yet another dark alleyway, Chris made his way to Prue's university dorm. The girl was in her second year at SFU and, unlike him, had decided to stay on campus as soon as she had begun. It had been a good move for her, it seemed, and she had made many close friends over the past few years. He'd hung out with her here several times and part of him had been tempted to move in as well—but orbing to class from the manor took no time at all and he liked the idea of saving his money for medical school.

His plan had been to leave the city for that and finally make it out on his own—now, however, he wasn't sure how practical it would be. Even though he could orb at a moment's notice, it was not the same as being physically present for his family on a regular basis. Could he really leave them behind now?

Trying to set that thought aside, Chris wove his way though the hallways until he made it to room 303. It only took two knocks before the door swung open to reveal his oldest cousin.

She looked surprisingly cheerful for someone who had recently had a massive fight with her family and she greeted him with an excited "Chris!" before inviting him inside.

Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that she was not alone and he waved awkwardly at a girl who was sitting on Prue's floor with a cocktail glass in hand. Apparently, the two had been having a girl's night in and the half-empty bottle of vodka certainly explained his cousin's demeanour.

"Chris, this is Beth." Prue introduced him as she took another glass out of a nearby cabinet and passed it to him. Apparently, she wanted him to join the fun. "Sit down! I'll make you a drink!"

He reluctantly obliged as he tried to think of a way to get her alone so that he could tell her why he had come. It was starting to look like this would not be a night for serious conversations, however.

He let his cousin mix him some sort of pink drink as he greeted her guest. The blonde seemed nice enough, and he didn't want to be rude, be he really hoped he could think of a way to get her out of the room.

He wished he had his mother's freezing power.

"Chris is my big cousin, the one I mentioned." Prue explained to her friend as she sat back down on the carpet and took a sip of her own drink.

The young man raised an eyebrow, wondering what their earlier conversations had been about.

"He is good fun." The girl continued with a smile. "When he's not in serious whitelighter mode."

Chris' mouth fell open in surprise at her comment and he looked at his cousin with wide eyes. How drunk was she, he wondered angerly. Clearly, she had no qualms about spilling their secrets to this stranger.

"Prue." He hissed, making no attempt to hide his annoyance. "What the hell?"

The girl simply laughed. "See what I mean?" She asked, eliciting a quiet laugh from her friend as well.

"Calm down, Chris." She continued, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "I'm not an idiot. Beth is a witch, she knows about us."

The young man gave a sigh of relief, thankful that she had not totally lost her mind.

"I come from a family of witches too. I have hydrokenesis." The girl piped in, still smiling. "Prue was just telling me about all of the crazy stuff that has been going on for the last few days."

His cousin nodded. "We just figured out each other's secret a few months ago—it's good to have someone outside the family to talk to."

Chris could not argue with that. As weird as it was to have a stranger in the loop, he understood the appeal for Prue. He didn't really have any close magical friends and spent most of his time hanging out with his brother. He'd always been too guarded to really open up to anyone else—the importance of keeping the secret had been drilled into him from a young age.

"That's good." He finally replied, taking a small sip of his drink. Whatever it was was delicious, but he was not really there to have fun and he set it down beside him.

"Sorry to tell you that I am in boring whitelighter mode right now." He stated, eliciting an eye roll from his cousin. "I've been researching the demon all day and I was just talking to Peyton about meeting up to discuss things."

Prue gave a loud groan as she flopped back against the edge of her bed. "Urgh, this sucks." She complained, looking up at the ceiling. "My life is over, isn't it?"

Chris gave her a sympathetic shrug. "I don't think so. Once we deal with this situation we can all probably go back to some semblance of a normal life." He paused, feeling guilty for crashing the only fun she had probably had in weeks. "It can wait till the morning if you want." He finished, glancing briefly at the bottle of vodka. He wondered if she was even in the right state for a serious discussion right now anyway.

Prue appeared to contemplate that for a moment before letting out another groan. "No, let's do it." She said with a heavy sigh as she reached for the water bottle on her nightstand and took a big swig. She muttered something about 'stupid magic' before forcing herself to her feet.

"I'll be fine in a bit." She said, clearly sensing his wariness about her level of inebriation. " I only had two. Let's get some fresh air and walk Beth back to her building, then we can orb back to the house."

Chris quickly agreed, surprised that she was this willing to put her night on hold. He wondered if she felt guilty about how she had left things with her sisters—Aunt Phoebe had always loved the old adage that one should never go to bed angry and the girls were usually pretty quick to settle any arguments. He wished his own sister was that easily placated.

Wordlessly, Prue put the glasses on the table and her friend collected her bag from the foot of the bed. After slipping on some shoes they were ready to go and the trio walked out into the quiet courtyard outside of the dormitories.

Chris made some polite small talk with Prue's friend as they walked while his cousin continued to steady herself with long drinks from her water bottle. She definitely seemed to sober up quickly and she looked far more serious than she had when he arrived.

He felt a bit guilty about that—she deserved to smile and relax, and he had come in and sucked out all the fun with his boring whitelighter vibe.

He did not want to be that person and it annoyed him that he was already taking his role so seriously. Sure, the demon had to be dealt with and he wanted the girls to focus on getting that done, but he was also a twenty-three-year-old college student. He should have been laid back and fun too.

It felt like the elders were already winning—like they had somehow known that he had this hidden dive.

"California is nice." Beth said, continuing their conversation as they rounded the corner into another dark and empty courtyard. "But I'll probably head back to New York when I'm done my program. There's no place like home, right? Plus I'm dying for a good bagel."

Chris nodded, briefly wondering how he would fare if he ended up going that far from home.

"Is there a big wiccan community over there?" He asked curiously. "I'm applying to NYU for medical school but I'm not sure if—"

"Chris, watch out!"

Before he could finish his sentence, Chris heard his cousin's cry and she pushed him down onto the grass.

For a moment, he was very confused by her odd behaviour but as he looked around the abandoned yard he caught sight of a lone figure in black clothing advancing towards them.

The man was holding a large crossbow and he turned to see an arrow lying next to him on the ground.

He had been shoved out of the way just in time.

"Shit, a darklighter." He muttered as he attempted to steady his breath. Heart pounding, he got back to his feet, bracing himself for a fight.

Perhaps it would have been smarter just to orb away (after all, he was probably the target and he was the only one who was susceptible to the poison) but he did not want to leave his cousin or her friend alone. They probably still weren't at their best, and his number one priority was to protect the Charmed Ones.

He was not leaving without Prue.

The man fired his second shot but this time, more prepared, Prue directed the arrow back towards the demon. Unfortunately, he dodged her attack but she then sent him flying backwards with another blast of telekinesis.

It appeared that he was fairly resilient, however. A moment later, the darklighter was bounding back to his feet, bow still in hand— but a fierce wave of water rose out of a nearby fountain, knocking him down once more.

"Cool." Prue said with a quick glance at her friend but there was no time for more than a word. A second later, the water-logged demon orbed out. Chris squinted in the dark for a moment, hoping to send a counter-attack the second the creature reappeared. He barely had time to turn his head, however, when he felt a piercing pain in his left arm.

The darklighter had reappeared on the roof of a nearby building and his attack had been successful. Chris could feel his vision blur and he let out a low moan as he stumbled down onto the grass.

"No!" He heard his cousin exclaim as she TK'd one of the misfired arrows on the ground at the attacker. Thankfully, she made her mark and the demon let out a cry of rage before bursting into a flurry of dark orbs.

He was vanquished. But the damage had already been done.

Prue quickly threw herself at his side, her eyes full of concern as she wiped some of the sweat from his brow. "Wyatt! Uncle Leo!" She called, hoping that one of them would hear her cries and come quickly.

Chris was shaking slightly and he felt extremely weak. The poison seemed to be working fast and he felt worse than he ever had during any previous darklighter attack.

"Oh my god!" He heard Prue's friend exclaim. "How can a shot to the arm do so much damage!?"

He must have looked like total crap.

"Give me your scarf." His cousin said frantically. As soon as she had the item she wrapped it around the top of his arm in hopes of cutting off some of the blood flow. "That was a darklighter. Their arrows are poisonous to whitelighters." She paused. "Uncle Leo! Chris needs you!"

Thankfully, the glow of light blue orbs began to fill the courtyard and his father appeared next to them…with his mother in tow.

"Chris!" Piper cried, immediately dashing to her son's side.

"Darklighter." Prue explained as she shifted to the left.

The former Charmed One nodded and she surveyed the wound. "I'm going to pull the arrow out so dad can heal you." She said, trying (somewhat unsuccessfully) to mask her own panic.

Chris let out a cry of pain as he felt her pull out the barb and he closed his eyes as the world around him began to spin.

He saw a glimmer of gold as his eyes began to slide shut and the world turned to black…

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	8. Chapter 8

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Chris let out a low groan as he slowly began to open his eyes.

For a moment, he was disoriented—but as his vision cleared he was relieved to see that he was laying in his bedroom back at the manor. Clearly, after the attack in the university courtyard, someone had transported him home for a bit of much-needed rest.

After closing his eyes for another few moments and gathering his strength, the young man slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. This was a slight hint of pain in his arm where the arrow had struck but other than that he seemed to be alright. He was definitely drained, though. For some reason, this strike had taken way more out of him than it should have and he briefly wondered what had made this situation so different.

"Chris!"

He turned his head abruptly to discover that he was not alone in the dimly lit room. Apparently, his overprotective mother had been stationed in the chair behind him and she rushed over to his side. Chris did his best to suppress an eye-roll. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for her concern, but he wasn't a child and he didn't need her at his bedside, even when he was ill. But, he supposed, his mother had just been though a hell of a lot and was probably more prone to worry than ever.

He did his best to muster a small smile.

"Hey mom." He said, his throat a bit dry as he forced out his first few words. "How long have I been out?"

Piper sit down at the edge of his bed, her relief apparent as she surveyed her youngest son.

"About a hour." She informed him as her breathing began to steady. "Prue said that you had only been struck by the arrow about three minutes before we arrived—we've all been worried sick. Usually the poison doesn't work that fast and when you didn't wake up right away…"

She trailed off, the thought clearly too much for her to handle.

He couldn't really blame her for worrying. Not after Phoebe.

Chris tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"You father assured me that you would be fine and that these things can just take time. Thank goodness he was right." She finished before reaching out to give his hand a tight squeeze.

Chris nodded. It wasn't the first time he'd been attacked by a darklighter. He and his siblings had always been high on their list of targets and he'd been struck a few times before. He usually felt a bit shaky for a few hours after he was healed but he had never passed out before.

And it had been so quick.

Something was definitely amiss.

As much as he didn't want to worry her, he needed to know more.

"Any leads on the darklighter?" He asked, his mind racing as he tried to recall if he had read or heard anything relevant lately. If something was brewing they would need to deal with it quickly—Quintu was the main priority right now and they did not need super-powered darklighters providing a dangerous distraction.

Unfortunately, Piper shook her head.

"Not yet." She said with a small sigh. "Prue took the arrow to magic school for examination and your dad is up there checking to see if the elders know why the poison seemed to so strong."

He could see her eyes begin to redden and before he could say anything his mom drew him in for a tight hug. He could almost feel the worry radiating off of her as she held him close.

"Oh sweetheart." She whispered into his shoulder before pulling back slightly. "Maybe you should keep a low profile until we can figure this out." She began hopefully. "Take a week or two off school and stay home where it's safe. I hate that you're such a target now—and if the darklighters are plotting something, we need to keep you safe."

Chris had to fight back his natural annoyance. He understood that she was his mother and thus she would always worry, but he hated being babied and did not like the implication that he needed protection.

Sure, he may not have had the best offensive powers, but he was undoubtedly powerful and fully capable of taking care of himself.

There was no way he was going to stand back and hide, especially when he knew that the Charmed Ones needed him.

"Mom, I'm twenty-three." He pointed out, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "I get that you want to keep me safe but you know that's not always possible in this family."

Piper opened her mouth to protest but Chris continued before she could.

"The girls need me, and after tonight I'll be on high alert."

"I just hate the thought of you being so vulnerable—"

This time, Chris could not suppress a small eye roll.

Why was he always the target of her worry? He wasn't the only one with whitelighter blood, not by a long shot. And as far as he knew, she wasn't proposing that his siblings hide inside the manor.

Piper had always been extra protective of him and he had never really figured out why.

"Wyatt, Mel and Paige are just as vulnerable as I am. And dad is probably more so." He frowned briefly at the thought. If the poison had gotten to him, a half-breed, so quickly he did not what to think about what might happen to his dad. If anyone needed to stay safe, it was Leo. "I guess you think drew the short straw when I got stuck with all of the pacifist powers, but I am not helpless." He pointed out. "Worst case scenario, I can always orb out, okay? So don't worry. I'll be fine."

There was a pause before Piper threw her hands up in resignation.

Clearly, she was not pleased about the thought of letting him go about his business unprotected, but she also knew who she was dealing with.

"As noble as you father and as stubborn as me." She muttered, shaking her head slowly.

Chris smirked, glad to finally hear a bit of levity in her voice.

"You only have yourselves to blame." He shrugged before he pushed his blanket off and swung his legs over the side of his bed.

The longer he sat up the better he felt and he was keen to get back on task as soon as possible. But, before he refocused on Quintu, there was one more thing he wanted to do.

"I didn't get to eat those banana pancakes this morning, you know." He said as he placed a hand on his empty stomach. "Are they still in the fridge? Can we heat them up?"

The thought of him finally enjoying her lovingly prepared meal brought a smile to his mother's face and she nodded joyfully. "Of course, sweetheart." She replied as she stood up and placed a quick kiss atop his dark hair.

Chris smiled back. It had been a terrible evening and there was much to be done, but he was looking forward to one blissful moment of normalcy.

Demons, darklighters and destinies could wait for another half hour.

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Perhaps it wasn't too surprising in the circumstances, but very little progress was made that night.

Leo had orbed into the kitchen and told them what he had learned from the elders (which was not much, aside from some rumours that a few families of darklighters had begun to brew stronger poisons). By the time they had finished discussing that situation, Chris had sensed that Prue, Parker and Peyton were all home in bed and had decided that it would be best not to bother him. Yes, he was keen to tell them about his research on Quintu but he also knew that they deserved some rest after another stressful day. And, to be honest, he still hadn't been feeling very well himself.

Deciding to do things the mortal way for a change, he had texted Prue before heading off to bed and they had agreed to convene in the attic the next morning at nine.

Unfortunately for Chris, he had woken up at six after a few hours sleep and had been forced to occupy himself as he waited for the girls.

The logical part of his brain knew that he should have been using the time for his chemistry assignment but he had quickly discovered that his mind simply wasn't able to focus on that right now. He hoped this was a temporary blip for him—he'd always been such a focused student, and he didn't want his magical duties to get in the way of his drive. But, it seemed, magic was all he could think about right now and that was unsettling to him.

He'd always managed to maintain a fairly normal life and he had prided himself in that. Yes, he had done his duty whenever needed and would never let an innocent suffer, but that side of himself had never felt like it was consuming him.

Now, however, he was beginning to wonder if things could ever be the same. Even after they vanquished Quintu, he would still be the Charmed One's whitelighter. This was a new state of affairs and things had not really had time to sink in yet. He'd accepted his task for the sake of his cousins, and he did not regret that—but what was it really going to mean for him long term? Was a mortal life and a career really attainable anymore?

Sure, his father had managed to balance whitelighter duties and teaching at magic school, but that was different. No one there would bat an eye if he suddenly needed to orb out. But, if everything went to plan, that would not be an option for Chris. He had planned to work a regular job with regular people. He couldn't just dissolve into a column of twinkling blue lights every time he was called. Nor would it be fair to bring danger to innocents around him. As last night had seemed to make clear, he was a target, now more than ever. What if someone got caught in the crossfire?

He could not let that happen.

But the only way to reduce those risks would be to relinquish his role and he wasn't sure if he could turn his back on his cousins like that. As frustrating as the Halliwell clan could be a times, his family meant everything to him. If this was destined to be his contribution then he felt duty-bound to see it through. He'd already accepted it far more than he thought possible—and, if he was being entirely honest, there was something about the situation that simply felt natural to him.

Being the Charmed One's whitelighter had sounded crazy and unwelcome at first, but after a few short days, those initial hesitations were fading.

It almost felt as if he had done this before, even though he knew it was impossible.

Something was driving him forward and he found himself giving into these inner drives. He _wanted_ to guide, to push, to research, to protect. It was uncomfortable to admit to all of that, but he supposed it was simply genetic.

He took after his father, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

Maybe his mortal charade had simply expired and it was time to embrace what he was.

Letting out a small sigh, Chris looked out into the back garden. He had been sitting on the couch in the sunroom nursing a cup of coffee as he enjoyed the rare silence of the manor.

As much as he wished he had managed more sleep, it was nice to be alone for a bit. The house was usually buzzing with energy and movement as various family members (along with attackers and innocents) came and went.

But right now, it was calm and Chris could not stop an unusual idea from crossing his mind. After listening for a second to make sure that there was no movement from upstairs, the young man placed his mug down on the table and crossed his legs.

Already feeling a bit foolish, he hesitated for a moment before drawing a deep breath and closing his eyes.

For the most part, he had always listened to his dad during their training sessions and had quickly mastered every new power that had been thrown his way. But, despite Leo's insistence on its usefulness, Chris had never really embraced meditation. He was generally much too impatient for such things and since he had figured out how to control his powers without "centring" himself first, he had figured it was pointless.

But right now, in the silence of the morning, he figured it might be worth a shot.

His dad always said it was the best way for a whitelighter to balance themselves, and there was no doubt that Chris was beginning to feel out of balance. His life had always seemed to be following a set path and he had been so sure of himself.

Until now…

Everything was different, and maybe he just needed a moment of calm.

The young man tried to focus on nothing but his breaths and it did not take long for him to feel a surge of power flow through him.

He could feel his body begin to hover above the couch and as he briefly glanced down he could see a swirl of orbs circling beneath him, keeping him afloat.

Chris closed his eyes and continued to breathe, his mind clearing itself of the stress and worry of the past few days.

For a brief, blissful second, there was nothing but warmth and light.

He felt the call of something above and a wave of peacefulness overcame him before an unexpected sight filtered into view. It was hazy and distant, but he saw his mother's face, decades younger, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was looking at him, suspicion etched on her face.

He was a stranger to her.

" _You can orb? You're a whitelighter?"_

Chris heard his mother's voice whisper from a distant past.

Then suddenly…

"What the hell?"

Chris opened his eyes abruptly to see his sister standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. His focus instantly gone, the young man came crashing back to the ground and landed on the couch with a slightly painful jolt.

"Ouch." He muttered, rubbing his back as Mel took a few steps into the room and sat across from him on one of the old wicker chairs. "It's not nice to sneak up on people, you know."

The girl shrugged as she continued to look at him skeptically. "I didn't know you were in here." She replied, crossing her arms across her chest. "The room looked empty—I'm not exactly used to looking for my brother on the ceiling."

"You know I can hover."

"Yeah, but you never do." She quickly replied. "But I guess if you're embracing all of the whitelighter stuff I don't know what to expect anymore."

Although she did not sound as angry and annoyed as she had during their argument yesterday Chris could tell that Mel was still not pleased about the situation. Still, he was happy that she seemed willing to talk and had (hopefully) calmed down a little bit during the past day.

His sister hesitated. "Were you…meditating?" She asked as she glanced back up towards where she had found him.

Chris felt a flush spread across his cheeks as he reluctantly nodded.

"I was thinking about things and dad always goes on and on about how it helps bring clarity so I figured it was worth a shot. I didn't think anyone else was awake yet."

There was a pause and Chris braced himself for her sarcastic jibes. But they never came.

"Well, did it?" She asked, leaning back against the chair as she waited curiously for an answer.

He was a bit taken aback by her non-judgemental demeanour and it took him a second to formulate his response.

"A bit, I guess." He began with a shrug. "I mean, I didn't do it for long—but I do feel calmer now." He paused for a moment, briefly dwelling on the confusing image of his mother that he had seen. "Not sure if anything is clearer, though. My life is still pretty fucked up."

Mel raised an eyebrow as he spoke and she gave him a long glance before she replied.

"Fucked up?" She asked skeptically as she continued to look at her usually well-composed brother. "Hectic, sure. But you're still as brilliant as ever, and now you're going to be a doctor AND the Charmed One's whitelighter. You're pretty damn important, Chris. That's enough to make some people jealous, I bet."

Thankfully, Mel cracked a small smile and Chris was unable to hold back a chuckle. Yes, she was definitely in a better mood today and he was relieved that they could talk things through.

"Some people, huh?" He asked, giving her a pointed glance.

His sister stuck out her tongue. "I'm sorry about yesterday, okay?" She said, raising her arms in defeat. "I was just shocked—and yeah, a bit jealous. But mostly I was freaking out." She paused, glancing down at the floor as her face began to fall. "This family has been through a lot and I don't love the idea that the cycle is continuing." Mel admitted, confirming what Wyatt had suggested yesterday during their chat. "Mom and dad told me about the darklighter last night when I got home from my shift at the club and I hardly slept. You know me, I'm _never_ up this early. But it was too hard to relax. I'm glad…"

She trailed off as she looked back up at Chris and offered him a small smile. "It's good to see that you're okay."

The young man smiled back. He knew that she always had a hard time admitting when she was wrong and it meant a lot that she was so concerned. There was a lot of love under all of the sibling tension and he was relieved that this would not develop into one of their epic week long arguments.

He needed his family right now. Especially his siblings. They could understand better than anyone else possibly could.

"I'm fine." He said reassuringly as he nestled into the couch and looked towards her. "Things do feel pretty messed up, though." He continued, deciding to share some of what was on his mind. "The more I think about everything the less I think I can pull it all off." Chris hesitated before he finished. "Maybe I'll have to give up on the hope of a normal life."

Mel instantly let out a scoff.

"You may be a lot of things, Christopher Halliwell, but you are not a quitter." She said, her face set with her trademark defiance. There was no doubt that she had inherited that look from their mother.

"It's not really about quitting, Mel." He replied with a sigh. Despite her assertion, he did not share her firm confidence. "But all of this has thrown my plans for a loop. I went up to the elders determined to tell them no at all costs. But when I found out it was for the cousins I couldn't turn them down and now, even after a few days—" Chris hesitated, not quite sure if he was ready to make his admission, especially to her. "This whole whitelighter thing, it just feels right." He said, his voice much softer than it had been before. "Even though I don't want it to."

It was uncomfortable to embrace this fact, and it felt weird to say it out loud. But, he supposed, it was better to discuss it and figure out what to do then to simply keep repressing his feelings. He had probably been repressing things for longer than he realized.

He half expected Mel to roll her eyes and go on a rant about the elders but instead she sat contemplatively.

"Well, it has always been your dominant side, power wise." She noted. "And it's not really the same as just being a witch, even I know that." There was another pause. "Witches are just people who can use magic. Whitelighters are—"

"An entirely different species." He said glumly, finishing his sister's thought. That fact had been pointed out to him rather bluntly over the past few days and he was doing his best to come to terms with it. "Angelic beings, not humans."

"Right." Mel agreed with a nod. "And we're caught somewhere in between. Always doomed to be both and neither." She gave him another thoughtful look. "Especially you."

The boy raised an eyebrow. Sure, he'd developed more of the powers associated with being a whitelighter, but he wasn't entirely sure why he was a special case. Before he could ask, his sister continued.

"I mean, Wyatt has the whole twice-blessed thing going on and that seems to give him a bit more of a wiccan kick." She began. "And I probably shouldn't have inherited any whitelighter powers because I was conceived when dad was mortal again—but apparently the residual whitelighter DNA means that I can orb. And Aunt Paige being a Charmed One always gave her a wiccan focus too…." The girl trailed off as they caught each other's eye. "At least, it did until recently." Mel added softly.

"But you—" She began again, looking back up at her brother. "You're the first and only straightforward blend of witch and whitelighter. Well, elder, technically. But that's a job not a power boost. You weren't born with a prophesy or special status."

"Gee, way to make a guy feel special." Chris piped in half-jokingly.

He did see her point. All of the other witchlighters in the family were more complicated than he was and that had seemed to push them more firmly towards their wiccan sides. But his birth had been as normal as possible for the offspring of a Charmed One and her guardian angel.

"And you of all people know about genetics and all that scientific stuff." Mel pointed out with a wave of her hand. "I'm guessing that in regular circumstances, the whitelighter genes are just dominant. That isn't really shocking—whitelighters don't fight, but they technically have way more powers than witches do. Witches are people with a magical power or two. Whitelighters _are_ magic. It kinda makes sense that you feel that side so strongly."

Chris stared at her for a moment, impressed by her deductions. He had spent a lot of time thinking these things through, especially recently—but he had never quite seen it like that. It was easy to underestimate whitelighters as a species since they did not often make a show of their power. But, as Chris knew all too well, there were so many facets to their magic. He could feel the buzz of it constantly.

He would never know what it felt like to simply be human.

"We're even more doomed than regular whitelighters, you know." Chris noted, deciding to share what he had learned from the elders over the past few days. "When I first when up there I asked them to clip my wings."

Mel's eyes widened in surprise.

"But they said that's not possible. They can do it to regular whitelighters because they were human at one point. They have a form they can go back to." Chris gave a sad smile. "But, apparently, if they clip our wings it would kill us."

His sister starred at him, wide-eyed, as she tried to absorb that news. She may not have had many powers but her ability to orb was more than enough to make her a witchlighter too. The same rules would undoubtedly apply.

"Can't wait to tell mom that one." She said with a small snort. Chris instantly imagined the sound of breaking glass followed by a string of expletives about the elders.

The siblings exchanged a knowing glance.

"Look, Chris." Mel began again. "I get that I'm just your annoying little sister and you probably don't think I know much about anything."

He rolled his eyes. That wasn't true and she knew it, but he allowed her to continue.

"But I know you." She stated firmly with another confident nod. "Maybe a few things are going to have to change, but you're going to be fine. Embracing this whitelighter stuff doesn't mean you're weak, and it definitely doesn't mean you're giving up. It's part of who you are and you're going to find a way to make everything work."

As she spoke, Chris could not hold back a wide smile. This was not his first pep talk, but it meant a lot coming from the person who was usually the most hesitant to declare her support. He appreciated her vote of confidence more than he could possibly say.

"Thanks, Mel." The young man said as he stood up from his spot on the couch. "That helps. A lot, actually."

The girl smiled back.

"Maybe I should be the one giving the whitelighter pep-talks after all." She joked with a wink.

Chris laughed. Sure, she did have her moments of clarity—but it was still hard to picture Melinda being the calm one in a moment of crisis.

"Anything is possible." He noted after letting out a playful scoff.

He paused for a moment as his sister examined him once more.

"Off to do some demonic research for your charges then?" She asked, sounding more curious than judgemental.

The young man shook his head.

"Nope, I've actually got a chemistry assignment to finish." He replied, glancing up towards his room. "The demonic stuff can wait a bit."

Mel wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Science and whitelighter duty." She muttered, shaking her head. He could tell from her tone that she was going for a playful jibe. "You really are boring, aren't you big brother?"

Chris gave her one last dramatic roll of his eyes as he finally began to make his way upstairs.

Despite their vast differences, he knew that she supported him. Maybe, that would give him the strength he needed to continue.

He was going to need all the help he could get.

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	9. Chapter 9

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"So it has to be done during a full moon? There is no other choice?"

Prue let out an annoyed sigh as she flopped back against her chair.

Chris and the girls were in the attic discussing their strategy for vanquishing Quintu and the oldest Charmed One was not pleased by the news that they would have to wait two weeks for the optimum strike.

The young man shrugged his shoulders helplessly before replying to his cousin. "I know it's not ideal, but at least we know when we'll have the best chance, right?" He paused, glancing around the attic for a brief moment. "And it's not really that long, Prue. It's probably a good idea to rest up a bit and prepare before we forge ahead. You need to be ready."

He watched as she rolled her eyes, clearly not placated. "You're being such a…whitelighter." She mumbled, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Chris chose to ignore the comment.

"And you're sure he'll be at his weakest that day?" Parker chimed in, much more calmly than her sister. She had been listening intently and did not seem nearly as impatient to do the deed. Chris silently thanked his lucky stars that the sisters were not all as hot-headed.

He nodded in affirmation. "According to everything I've been reading, demons this ancient—while extremely powerful—need to recharge once every lunar cycle. They usually spend that day in the depths of the underworld, feeding off the most primal and evil energies they can find. But if we can summon him before he has a chance to do that a power of three spell and a vanquishing potion should do the trick." He paused, looking pointedly at Prue. "If we try it now, before his energy is depleted, we don't stand much of a chance."

Prue let out yet another huff.

He could understand why she was eager to get this over with—none of them could begin to feel any sort of closure until the demon was dealt with, and the constant threat of another attack loomed large over the family. But two weeks would not be the end of the world. Maybe it was his inner pacifist speaking, but he liked the idea that they had time to practice and prepare.

"The full moon is on November 16th." Peyton noted, tilting her head as she looked up at Chris. "That's your birthday."

The young man shrugged. He had already realized that and he was not too bothered by the idea that his twenty-fourth birthday would be overshadowed by the big vanquish. This was more important and he had never much cared for his birthday. His mom always seemed to get weird and clingy on that day—the thought of avoiding her well-meaning but overbearing treatment appealed.

He was getting too old to let her smother him.

"No big deal." He remarked as he took a few steps towards the podium that held the Book of Shadows. "We'll have a lot to celebrate after."

He glanced down at the old tome for a moment before looking back up at the girls.

"This potion should be strong enough." He said, pointing to a recipe on one of the book's crinkled pages. It contained a long list of fairly rare ingredients and required careful preparation. It really was a good thing that they had a bit of time to get it ready. "It says here that it needs to stew for three days." The young man noted as he skimmed the instructions. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to get started today, just to be on the safe side. Most of these ingredients should be either here or at magic school, but I think we'll need to go to Gwen's shop for a couple of them."

Parker's face lit up at the mention of the shop.

They had all been going there with their mothers for years—Gwen was a family friend, and a fellow witch, who ran the best occult shop in town. Like most, she sold harmless knick-knacks for wiccan enthusiasts—but the back room contained items that were useful to actual witches. Her supply of potion ingredients was the most impressive they had ever found. She was always happy to help the Halliwell's and Parker had spent last summer working there part-time for a bit of spending money.

"I'm happy to go!" The middle sister exclaimed, already itching in her seat. She and Gwen had become close over the years and the older witch was one of her mentors.

Chris suspected that she had already gone by a couple of times during the past week—a visit with Gwen usually lifted her spirits when she was down. And there was no question that she needed comfort now more than ever.

"Sounds good." Prue said as she stood up and moved to Chris' side. After examining the book for a moment she gave a satisfied nod and looked back up at the others.

"Why don't you and Chris head downtown," She began, taking charge of the situation. "Peyton, you stay here and see what you can find in the attic and I'll beam to magic school to see what they have there."

He was happy that she was no longer dwelling on the fact that they would have to wait a few weeks for the vanquish and he quickly agreed to her plan. Waiting aside, it felt good to be doing something—even if it was just gathering potion ingredients.

Progress was progress, and it was a hell of a lot better than feeling aimless. Now that they knew a bit more about the demon, the work could begin.

Parker quickly stood up from her seat, ready to go, and Chris moved to join her by the attic door and held out his hand.

"Orb or beam?" He asked her, assuming that they would take the quickest transport option. But to his surprise, the girl shook her head.

"It's nice outside and it's only a twenty-minute walk." She replied, glancing down the stairs. "Why don't we do it the normal way for a change?"

He smiled at his cousin.

That sounded good to him and it would be nice to spend a bit of time with Parker. They hadn't really had a chance to talk one-on-one since everything had begun and he had been hoping that they could touch base. Chris had to admit that he had never really gotten to know the middle sister as well as he knew the others.

She was the quiet one and was the most likely of all his cousins to slip off somewhere alone during a family gathering. He and Prue had always been friends, and Peyton was full of outgoing energy.

But Parker was more of a mystery to him.

She loved all things magical and was very in touch with her cupid side—he had never been able to bond with her over either of those things. But he was her big cousin, and her whitelighter. He cared for her deeply and wanted her to know that he was there for her as much as he was for the others.

Chris hoped that she did not doubt that.

After slipping on their shoes and jackets and they stepped out onto the sunny sidewalk. Parker had been right—it was a lovely day outside and Chris revelled in the feeling of the warm autumn sun on his cheeks. He had always loved this time of year. San Francisco may not have been as cold as places further north, but there was still a refreshing crispness in the air.

He took a deep breath, grateful for chance to enjoy this simple pleasure.

Even though he did like to walk places, it occurred to him that he had not done so in over a week. In all of the chaos, he had relied more heavily on his orbing than usual and he hoped that would not become the new normal. There was no question that his life was different now, but he did not want to let magic take over.

He could still enjoy moments like these.

At least, he hoped it could.

"Do you feel different now?"

His daze broken, Chris turned to his cousin, somewhat confused by her sudden question. "Different how?" He asked, looking towards her for a moment as they rounded the first corner.

"I mean, since you became our whitelighter." She clarified curiously. "Do you feel different?"

The young man paused as he thought of his response. He hadn't really had much time to contemplate that yet, but there were a few things that came to mind.

"Well, like I said the other day, I can sense the three of you a lot more strongly now." He began. Even now, he could feel that Peyton was back at the house and that Prue had already left for magic school. "It's hard to explain, I guess. I've always been able to sense any family member I want, so it's not totally unfamiliar. But now I feel it constantly, without making a conscious effort. It's not strong or distracting, really. But it's there. I guess that's the biggest difference."

His cousin nodded thoughtfully, and silence fell as they continued their walk. Chris wondered if he should say more, but he knew that Parker was not someone who minded long pauses.

It was nice to simply relax in each others company.

After a minute, she spoke again.

"I suppose it's a bit like our cupid powers." The girl noted, her eyes looking up at the wispy clouds that were drifting by. "I can sense love connections between people without really trying. It's something I notice, but it's not distracting unless I chose to focus on it."

Chris nodded.

Truth be told, he did not know all that much about that side of the sisters' powers. He knew they were half-cupid, of course. And that they could all sense and beam. But none of them had ever really discussed it in great depth. It was their wiccan sides that they shared and if magic was a topic of conversation amongst the cousins then spells and potions were generally the focus.

"I really should know more about it." He mused, tilting his head towards her. "It's kind of strange that none of us every really explored it. Cupids and whitelighters do have some commonalities."

Parker shrugged. "Perhaps. But you and Prue have never been that interested in magic talk." She paused. "Mel and I have discussed the similarities between cupids and whitelighters a few times, but she said I should talk to you if I wanted to know more. It has always been something that has fascinated me."

Chris paused for a second. Parker and Mel were the same age and sometimes hung out—so that was not too surprising. But he did wonder why Parker had never come to him if she was curious about that topic. Was he intimidating or standoffish?

He certainly hoped not.

"We could have discussed it." He noted warmly. "We can talk any time you want. I hope you know that, Parker."

The girl shrugged again before looking down at the sidewalk. "Like I said," she began. "I know you've never been interested in magic talk, and I didn't want to bother you."

Chris let out a small breath.

He was saddened to think that he had seemed unapproachable but he supposed she had a point—he'd always tried to keep the magic business to a minimum and had a habit of changing the topic when it came up. It had been part of his desire for a normal life, especially during his teenage years when he had not wanted to feel like such a freak. But, he realized, the drive no longer felt quite as strong as it once had.

The similarities between whitelighters and cupids did sound fairly interesting to him and he was not the least bit annoyed by her curiosity.

That definitely would not have been the case five years ago. And he probably would have been less keen a few weeks ago, truth be told.

Everything felt different now, though.

"Well," he started, offering her a small smile. "I'm a witch and a guardian angel. I think I kind of have to be interested." The young man paused. "As your whitelighter, it's my job to know as much as I can, right?"

Parker smiled back.

"This suits you, you know." She noted after giving him a long glance. "Maybe you don't want to hear it, but the last few days you have seemed more natural than I can ever remember. It's a bit odd, I suppose." She continued to ponder. "So many terrible things have happened, and none of us wanted this burden, but you are somehow more relaxed and centred, despite it all."

Chris raised an eyebrow, surprised by her assessment.

He certainly didn't feel too relaxed. His family was grieving, he'd been thrust into an unwanted destiny, he'd been attacked by a superpowered darklighter and there was a powerful demon to vanquish.

The young man let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm not so sure about that. But I'm glad you think so." Chris paused again. "How about you? I haven't really had a chance to ask you how you're feeling about all of this."

Parker let out a long slow breath and silence hung in the air as she contemplated her answer.

"I don't really know what to feel yet." She said, her voice even quieter than it had been before. "I never expected or wanted this." The girl glanced at her cousin. "I'm like you, Chris. I inherited so much from my father, I did not think being a witch was going to be the centre of my life."

It was a good point, but one he had not thought of before. He and Parker were probably the least wiccan-inclined of their generation. Aside from his telekinesis, he took after Leo and Parker had always seen herself as a future cupid with an (unwanted) combustion power.

"The only difference is, you get to follow in Uncle Leo's footsteps while I'm supposed to be a Charmed One." She finished, letting out a quiet sigh.

Unlike Prue, Parker was not the type to rage against destiny but he could tell from her demeanour that it was hitting her just as hard.

She was stoic and resigned, but no less upset.

"Being a Charmed One doesn't mean you can't do anything else." He noted reassuringly. "Aunt Paige has always had charges on top of her Charmed duties, and she managed. If you want to be a cupid, I'm sure that's possible too." The young man paused. "How are things with your dad?" Chris asked, hoping he would not upset her with the question. He had asked Prue the same question when they had arrived at the manor earlier, but all he had gotten was a quick "fine" and a trademark wave of her hand. He hoped that Uncle Coop was feeling better about everything but he knew that it would probably take time to adjust.

The man had just lost his wife. And no father wanted to think of his daughters being the target of every evil force on the planet.

Parker bit her lip and he could tell that she felt burdened by the situation.

"A bit better this morning, I guess." She said after taking a deep breath. "Last night was….hard. I hated seeing him so upset and Prue just kept making everything worse by shouting about how he doubts us. But she's wrong, it's not like that." The girl noted, a hint of frustration in her voice. "He knows how capable we are, he just doesn't want to see us hurt, and he doesn't think our fates should be chosen for us." She paused, sighing again. "He was home when we got up this morning, but he didn't say anything about the argument and he didn't look any of us in the eye. I can tell that he is sick with worry and there is nothing I can do to make it better."

Chris nodded slowly. Despite Prue's earlier brush off, he had suspected that this was the situation. It was going to take more than a night for Uncle Coop to accept what had happened and Parker was clearly upset by the rift in their relationship.

"Don't feel like you always have to be the one to fix everything, Parker." The young man said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You know that your dad loves you guys, and things will get easier. He's probably in shock right now. He'll be okay, and Prue will make her amends too. She always does. These things just take time."

"Yeah." The girl agreed reluctantly. Chris could tell that she was still worried and he wished that there was something more he could do.

He wondered if going to talk to his uncle might help. He wanted to, but he also worried that (like Prue had initially) he might see him as a mouthpiece for the elders.

Chris hated that thought. He had always gotten along well with his uncle and did not want to man to resent him for pushing the girls towards an unwanted destiny.

Perhaps asking his parents to talk to Coop might be better. They had already calmed down significantly and would be better able to understand what he was going through as a father.

"Oh good, it looks quiet today." Parker's comment broke Chris away from his thoughts and he looked up to see her pointing towards Gwen's shop.

They had arrived and, from their vantage point across the street, the place did appear to be empty.

That always made things easier—she'd be able to lock up the shop for a few minutes and take them to look at the actual wiccan products. When it was busy, they had to wait for the mortals to clear out before that was possible.

The pair quickly made their way across and Parker pushed open the glass door, alerting Gwen to their presence with a tinkling bell.

"Parker! Christopher!" The woman exclaimed as she rushed out from behind the counter to give them both a warm hug. "What a lovely surprise."

Gwen was a short woman in her mid-sixties who usually wore a gentle smile on her face. Chris did not know her nearly as well as Parker did, but she was always happy to see him as well. Whenever his mother sent him there to pick up supplies as a child she would insist on treating him to a hot chocolate and a homemade cookie—both of which had always put her in his good books. She was a sweet, grandmotherly figure who was always keen to help.

At first glance, few would have guessed that she was actually a powerful witch who could start blazing fires with the blink of an eye.

After the exchange of greetings, the woman bustled towards the door and quickly turned the lock, ensuring their privacy.

Or so he thought.

"You know what, I'll take the necklace too."

Chris was surprised to hear the sound of an unfamiliar voice from behind one of the shelves and he turned to see a dark-haired young woman step out towards the counter.

Perhaps it was just the surprise of seeing a stranger in the locked shop…or maybe it was the fact that she was extremely attractive, but Chris felt a strange feeling wash over him. He starred at her for several moments, trying to shake off his sudden light-headedness.

For a brief moment, she starred back.

He could have sworn he had seen those soulful brown eyes before...

"Of course my dear." Gwen replied, smiling at the young woman as she moved back towards the register. The girl turned towards her, finally looking away, and Chris steadied himself on a nearby table for a moment.

He had no idea what had come over him. Sure, she was beautiful—but he wasn't a horny teenager and he usually had way more self-control than that. It had almost felt like deja-vu, only far more intense and visceral. Perhaps he had met her before and it had simply slipped his mind. She was so striking, though. He probably would have remembered if he had.

Chris turned for a moment to see Parker starring at him with an odd expression on her face. He cringed internally. He probably looked like a stupefied idiot and he quickly did his best to shake off the odd daze that had overcome him.

"Don't worry." Gwen said, nodding towards Chris and Parker as she began to ring in the young woman's purchases. "Bianca is a witch too, and a friend. It is still safe to talk freely." She explained as she began to put various potion ingredients into a small paper bag.

Some of his confusion fading, Chris let out a short breath. If Gwen trusted her, then that said a lot. The older woman was no fool and did not do transactions with magical beings who she deemed dangerous or shady in any way.

Parker looked back and forth between him and the young woman once more before taking a step forward and offering her hand to the dark-haired witch.

"Hi, I'm Parker." She said, introducing herself with a shake. "And that's my cousin Chris."

He could feel his heartrate quicken as he took a step forward as well and offered a short nod and a hello.

Bianca raised an eyebrow and glanced at Gwen for a moment before she replied. "Parker and Chris Halliwell?" She asked, clearly intrigued.

It was not uncommon for them to be recognized by members of the magical community. They were, after all, members of the most powerful magical family in existence and stories of the Halliwell's many feats were famous amongst witches. There was even a course at magic school about the history of the original Charmed Ones.

Chris had never been a fan of the fame, but he was used to it. And, in light of recent events, he supposed it would not be going away any time soon.

"Yeah, that's us." Parker replied with a friendly smile.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Bianca." She said, formally introducing herself. She paused for a moment as she looked over at Parker. "I'm…I'm sorry to hear about your loss." She said, somewhat hesitantly. "Your mother was a great witch."

Parker looked down at the ground and a brief silence hung in the air. "Thank you." The teen replied, clearing her throat as she fought back tears. "She was."

Chris could see the sadness etched on Gwen's face and she reached out to lay a reassuring hand on Parker's arm. She was the closest thing the girl had to a living grandmother and Chris was grateful for her support. She had been at the funeral the other day and he could recall her holding Parker close as she sobbed onto her shoulder.

Things had moved so fast since then. It was odd to think that had only been a few short days ago.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" Bianca began, clearly worried that she had made a mistake by bringing up the subject. But Parker quickly gave her a reassuring smile.

"No, it's okay." The girl said. Chris could not help but admire her quiet strength.

There was another pause and he watched as Gwen looked back and forth between the cousins. He could tell that there was something on her mind.

"I must ask, my dears. I hope you don't mind." She began, her voice somewhat hesitant. "Are the rumours true?"

Bianca looked at them curiously as well. Clearly, she had heard the same rumours and Chris wondered how widely the news of the new Charmed Ones had already spread.

Happy to take some of the spotlight off of Parker, Chris quickly answered. "Yes." He answered simply before letting out a small sigh. "If you're talking about the rebirth of the Charmed Ones, then it's true."

Parker looked back down at the floor and he could sense that she was uncomfortable hearing the facts stated out loud. But it was something they would all have to get used to eventually. There was no choice but to accept reality.

"Oh, sweetheart." Gwen whispered, her eyes full of sympathy as she looked at the young Charmed One. "I can only imagine what you're going through." She paused. "Every witch who has come in during the past couple of days has been talking about it, and I hoped that it was not true. None of you deserve to take on this burden, especially now."

Parker nodded in agreement before giving a small shrug.

"We didn't ask for this." She noted, her voice full of emotion. "But there is nothing we can do. I know that." Parker paused as she gave Chris a small smile. "We do have a pretty awesome whitelighter, though. He's been helping us through."

The young man could not hold back a small chuckle at her words but he smiled back gratefully. He could tell that she meant it and, while he did not feel as confident in his own abilities, he was glad that she had faith in him.

He could feel all the sets of eyes on him now and Gwen raised her hand to her chest in surprise as she put the pieces together. "Christopher?" She said, looking at him. "Oh goodness." She paused. "How did your mother take that news?"

The young man smirked. She knew them well enough to guess the answer. "As well as you'd expect." He replied, letting out another quiet laugh. "Dad is secretly pleased, though. But he's trying to keep that to himself, for her sake."

"He's a wise man." Gwen noted with a smile. "And I'm sure he is so proud to see you follow in his footsteps."

He tried to shrug nonchalantly but was unable to stop a slight flush from spreading across his cheeks. Truth be told, his father's pride was probably the best thing about this entire messed up situation. He felt a bit like a child, but he liked that he had made his dad so happy.

He looked up to see that Bianca's gaze was on him too and, despite his best efforts, his blush deepened.

For the umpteenth time that afternoon, he internally kicked himself for looking like such an idiot in front of her.

"Huh." The young witch said, clearly deep in thought. "That must be what I sensed when you came in."

Chris starred back at her, confused by the sudden comment.

Had she felt something strange too? What did being a whitelighter have to do with any of it?

"I can sense good and evil." She clarified with a wave of her hand. Chris caught sight off an oddly shaped red tattoo on her wrist and he made a mental note to ask Gwen about it later. He could have sworn he had seen something like it before and he suspected it was not just a regular design. "When you walked in this weird feeling came over me." She paused, tilting her head to the side as she continued to examine him.

He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"I've never actually been this close to a whitelighter before," she continued. "And there is no good magic stronger than whitelighter magic. That must be why my senses feel so overloaded right now."

Chris looked at her in surprise for longer than he would have liked. So many questions were popping into his mind but he had no idea where to begin. It was interesting that she had felt something strange too—and maybe the intensity of his good magic explained it. But then what had he been feeling?

And why hadn't she ever met a whitelighter? She was a witch, wasn't she? The elders should have assigned her one of her own.

Their eyes locked and he felt another inexplicable jolt run through him.

"Haven't we been here before?" He asked.

The words flew out of his mouth without a thought and he was instantly confused by his own statement. He had already deduced that he had probably not met her before—why was he asking her that question?

Her gaze still on his, there was a long pause before she finally replied.

"I…I'd remember." She said, her voice suddenly much softer than it had been before.

Silence fell again, and if it had not been for Parker's small cough he probably would have stood there in a daze for even longer. She was so utterly captivating to him. He didn't want to look away.

But, despite his secret desires, he turned to see his cousin glancing back and forth between them again, her eyes wide with surprise.

She was acting oddly too, and he was dying to ask her what was up. Though he did not really want to in front of Bianca.

Gwen must have sensed the oddness of the situation too because she soon broke the three out of their strange trance. "Did you want the necklace in the bag as well my dear?" She asked as she finished packing all of Bianca's purchases.

The young woman looked startled for a second but quickly collected herself.

"I think I'll wear it, actually." She said, reaching forward and picking up the item. Chris feared that he still looked like a slack-jawed dolt, but he was unable to look away as she tossed back her hair and fastened the necklace around her neck.

"It's lovely." Parker noted as she admired the item. "Simple but beautiful." Gwen sold a small selection of jewelry at the back of her shop—most involved fairly elaborate designs with wiccan significance, but the one Bianca had selected was elegant and simple. A beautiful shining gem at the end of a delicate silver chain.

The young woman smiled. "I'm a woman of simple tastes." She said with a smile.

Their eyes met once more and as Chris glanced at the gem an image of an equally elegant ring suddenly flashed across his mind. For the briefest of seconds, he saw a simple silver band with a single shining diamond.

' _This will remind you of why we're doing this'_ a voice whispered from the depths of his mind.

He recognized that voice now…

"I should get going." Bianca said in the same gentle tone. "I'm sorry for intruding. It was nice to meet you both."

Her eyes remained on Chris as she spoke and he could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest once more.

He didn't want her to go.

But he felt frozen.

Finally looking away she took a step towards the door but was stopped by his cousin's sudden command.

"Wait!" The teen said, a frantic excitement in her voice. Chris had no idea what was up with her. She seemed jumpy all of a sudden, and happier than he had seen her in days.

"It's always great to meet a fellow witch." Parker said, pulling out her phone as she walked to Bianca's side. "What's your number? You should join us for dinner sometime next week."

Bianca looked surprised but a warm smile quickly crossed her face. "Oh." She said, as the teen passed her the phone. "I mean, sure. Okay. That would be nice."

Parker beamed as the dark haired witch typed in her number.

"There you go." She said, passing back the device. "Hopefully see you again soon then."

The teen nodded enthusiastically before glancing back at Chris who, much to his displeasure was still glued to his spot. The strange feeling was washing over him again and he could only muster a small wave as Bianca glanced back towards him and smiled.

He was not able to let out a breath until she had unlocked the door and disappeared from view.

As he finally steadied himself he turned to see Parker lock the door once more before she dashed over to the counter where Gwen was still standing.

"The real reason we came was for a few rare potion ingredients." She explained, still smiling.

Chris listened as she and Gwen carried out a brief discussion and he watched as the older witch disappeared into the back room, in search of the items they desired.

As soon as Gwen was gone, Parker turned back towards him. Beaming with excitement.

"Oh my god, Chris!" She exclaimed, a large smile on her face. Despite his confusion, he was glad to see her so happy all of a sudden. "My cupid senses are in overdrive!"

He starred at her, dumbfounded.

"Wait…what?" He replied, still trying to recover from the deluge of weird feelings that had washed over him. "Is that…is that why…"

He was finding it difficult to express what had just happened.

"What are you talking about?" He finally managed.

Parker grinned again. "You know how I can usually feel when two people have a connection?" She asked, eliciting a nod from her cousin. He was aware that was one of her powers and knew that a cupid's duty was to help lovelorn charges find a suitable match.

"Well," she continued. "When you and Bianca looked at each other my head nearly exploded. I've never sensed a connection as intense as that before."

Chris starred at her. He had to admit that this was not too shocking—it had definitely been a strange encounter and there was no doubt that he found her attractive. But it was still a lot to process and he wasn't exactly sure what it meant.

"So, what does that mean?" He asked, his heart still beating faster than usual. "Is she, like, my soulmate or something?"

Parker smiled again. "Something like that." She replied knowingly. "You felt something, didn't you? I could tell!"

Chris took a deep breath. "I'm a heterosexual male and she was gorgeous." He said, feeling increasingly uncomfortable by the notion that he had fallen into yet another pre-destined situation. Was his life entirely out of his control? His magical destiny had been chosen for him and now his relationship had been too?

He did not like the thought.

"Of course I felt something." He paused as Parker pulled a face of mock disgust. "But I don't know her. At least, I don't think I do..." He trailed off for a moment before finishing. "That's the weird part, actually. I feel like I do know her, somehow. I can't explain that."

Parker tilted her head thoughtfully. "Maybe your souls met in a previous life?" She mused. It was possible, of course. They knew that past lives were a thing—perhaps he and Bianca had been together before, decades or even centuries ago. But that didn't quite seem right. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her. In this form. But that was impossible, wasn't it? He would have remembered.

"That might explain why the connection was so amazingly intense."

"Maybe." The young man muttered, unconvinced. He let out a long sigh. "What am I supposed to do now? I'm not going to deny that that felt weird, but am I just supposed to accept that my fate had been written out for me? Don't I get to choose who I fall for?"

"Of course you still get to choose, Chris." Parker said helpfully. For a moment, he was reminded of her father when he went on his rambles about love and fate. "But trust me, connections like this are very rare and most cupids can only dream of matching their charges to such a perfect mate. As I cupid, I would highly recommend that you see where this goes." The girl pulled out her phone and wiggled it in front of him.

She was clearly a skilled match-maker.

Chris felt an all-too familiar flush spread across his cheeks and Parker smiled knowingly.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one guiding you." He muttered before shooting a longing glance at the spot where Bianca had once stood.

"You're the one that said I could pull off being a cupid and a Charmed One." She said with a quick wink. "Just doing my job."

Chris was about to reply when Gwen came bustling out of the back room with a few strangely shaped bottles in tow.

"I've got the vampire venom, the burdock root and the Himalayan sage." She said, placing the items down on the counter. "I'm afraid I don't have the Verdock egg, though. They're very hard to come by these days."

Grateful for the distraction from their uncomfortable conversation, Chris smiled at the older woman. "That's okay," he said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket as he walked over to her. "How much for those?"

"Please dear, I want to help. They're yours." She replied quickly. Chris, however, insistently placed forty dollars down on the counter.

"If you don't take it now I'll orb it into the till later." He said, used to her overly generous ways. The woman still had to make a living, and it was the least they could do.

Gwen relented with a defeated sigh, knowing from experience that he would make true on his promise.

"If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call."

Chris nodded thankfully, ready to make his goodbyes, but Parker had other ideas.

"Actually, there is one more thing." She said, leaning against the counter. "My cousin here was just wondering what you know about Bianca." Parker paused as she shot him a mischievous glance. "Is she single?"

Chris let out a loud cough of surprise and glared down at her. It seemed the girl could not ignore her natural match-making instincts. Even if it meant embarrassing him further.

Much to his displeasure, Gwen gave a knowing chuckle.

"I believe so." The older woman replied with a smile. "She has been coming by quite a bit over the past few months. She doesn't speak to her family anymore and I think she misses having someone to talk to about the magical side of her life. We've had several long chats."

Annoyed as he was, Chris was also perplexed. "Why doesn't she speak to them?" He blurted out. He felt strange discussing the young woman behind her back, but in their line of work it was important to always know who they were dealing with. If he was going to give her an actual chance, he needed to know if she was trustworthy, he reasoned.

Gwen hesitated for a moment. "Bianca comes from a coven known as the Phoenix." She began.

Chris felt a fresh wave of deja-vu run through him as she said the word Phoenix. He was pretty sure he had never heard of them. And yet, something in the back of his mind was suddenly pulsing with recognition.

"They're a coven of assassin witches, neither good nor evil. Traditionally, they are available to hire by anyone for the right price. But Bianca didn't want that life. She's a good witch and she has decided to focus on vanquishing demons, on her own terms."

He felt his eyes widen in surprise. She had certainly not seemed like a hired killer and he was relived to hear that she was unwilling to work for evil. He wanted to believe what Gwen was saying, but the jaded part of him wondered if Bianca really could be trusted.

He was suddenly very eager to consult the Book of Shadows.

"Thanks, Gwen." Parker said, clearly unperturbed by Chris' annoyance. She gave the woman a warm hug as they exchanged more goodbyes.

"Come by any time, for anything." The woman said with her trademark smile.

The two began to make their way towards the door and Chris was grateful to finally escape the unexpectedly weird and embarrassing situation. Before they could open the door, however, he looked back to see Gwen standing behind the counter with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

"Good luck, Christopher." She said with a wink.

The witchlighter felt his cheeks redden uncomfortably as he finally stepped out of the shop.

As if his life wasn't complicated enough already…

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A/N- Thanks to those who reviewed. I hope those who wanted to see Bianca are happy with the direction of the story.

AJ Granger- thanks for the long reviews. Hopefully I'll address most of your questions in the story. Mel has powers because I'm generally sticking to the official Charmed comics (I've only read summaries, but apparently she does have whitelighter genes). Sorry that Chris is a year older than he should be- I didn't really do the math and I need him to be turning 24 for the plot of the story. Let's say he took a gap year to travel after high school! He does have telekinesis from his mother's side and can do all of the regular wiccan things. I'm not a huge fan of the stories that give Chris, and all the offspring, massive lists of powers. Like a regular witch, he has one wiccan power (as does Mel). And no, he doesn't remember the other timeline. Yet. Thanks again for the thoughtful reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

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As soon as the week got into full swing the potion and the upcoming vanquish fell to the wayside.

Parker and Peyton had returned to school for the first time since their mother's passing, and there was no question that they were both struggling to adjust under the sympathetic eyes of their peers. No one at Bayside High knew what had really happened to Phoebe, of course—but Peyton had come home on Monday complaining that everyone, even her closest friends, had been afraid to talk to her. Things were certainly not back to normal and they probably never would be.

It was a bit easier for Prue who had a flexible college schedule and could enjoy anonymity in her large classes—but she was struggling to catch up with the assignments she had missed and Chris could tell that she was also overwhelmed.

He too was feeling a bit more pressure than usual. He hadn't really fallen behind, but midterms were looming over him and he knew he needed to keep his grades up for his med school applications. He studied as much as he could, but it was definitely harder to focus now and he felt the constant need to check up on his cousins.

He tried to sneak away and orb to the high school every lunch time to touch base and offer his support and he checked in on Prue at some point every day as well. He didn't want to overstep but, so far, they had all seemed grateful for a shoulder to lean on when they were feeling down. (Peyton had been particularly happy when he had finally relented and written her French paper for her).

By Thursday, everyone was exhausted and Chris was left to wonder how realistic the situation really was.

Sure, their family members reassured them that they could "do it all," but he still needed to be fully convinced. The previous Charmed Ones had balanced a lot, but they had already been adults when their destiny was thrust upon them. Prue, Peyton and Parker were young. Hell, _he_ was young too. His mother had a point when she had ranted about how ridiculous this was.

But, he hoped, it might get easier as their grief became more manageable and they settled into a routine. Getting rid of Quintu would also be a huge relief— all were constantly on alert for another attack and knew that they should be working on the vanquish during their few precious spare moments.

Thankfully, there had been no other major demon attacks during the past few days. Prue had vanquished another darklighter on Tuesday and required a bit of healing for a small gash on her arm. But, aside from that, things had been reasonably calm.

They still hadn't had time to find the Verdock egg, however, and he was beginning to worry that they would not be able to get the potion started in time.

There was just over a week left until they would have to attempt the vanquish and the potion needed at least three days to brew.

As the evening approached he had contemplated gathering the sisters to discuss their plan for fetching the final ingredient but, after sensing that they were all studying in their respective rooms, he had decided against it. Unlike the girls, he didn't have any classes tomorrow and he was half witch too. He was fully capable to figuring out how to get the egg and warding off any danger that might be involved.

They needed a break more than he did.

So that was why Chris was currently in the attic, flipping through the book. He wanted to double check the short entry that it contained about the egg before orbing down to the demonic market that was probably their last hope of finding it. It was not a place he enjoyed going, but it could be useful at times and he was pretty sure that his hunt would be a success.

As soon as he found the page he skimmed it quickly and made a mental note to look for an egg with black and gold markings. He was pretty sure that he knew exactly which stall to go to and he hoped that he could get in and out quickly without being noticed.

Chris prepared himself to orb but, before he could, the sound of another arrival halted his progress.

Another column of blue filtered into the room and quickly materialized into his older brother.

He was tempted to orb away regardless, eager to get his unpleasant task done, but he had not seen Wyatt all week. He did not want to be accused of neglecting his closest family again and a short chat wouldn't really put him behind. The demonic market wasn't going anywhere.

"Hey little Bro." Wyatt said, offering him a wide smile. "Remember me?"

Chris could tell that his comment was lighthearted and he did his best not to roll his eyes.

"Hmm, I think so." The younger Halliwell quickly replied. "You're the guy who used to orb my toys away just to make me cry, aren't you?"

Wyatt snorted. "Yeah, and you're the one who would orb them right back, and then TK them at my face."

"You deserved it." Chris shot back playfully sticking out his tongue as he flopped down onto the couch. If he wasn't leaving right now he might as well rest and preserve his energy, he reasoned.

He looked over at his brother. "What's up Wy?" He asked. "Are you looking for mom and dad? Dad's at magic school, but mom is down in the kitchen."

Wyatt shrugged as he took a seat across from Chris. "Not really." He replied, suppressing a yawn. "I just finished marking papers and was a bit bored, I just thought I'd stop in and say hi." The twice-blessed paused. "And maybe steal a few of those brownies mom made yesterday."

Chris snorted and shook his head. Wyatt was lucky that he had a fast metabolism—the man could eat and he had a terrible sweet tooth. You could always count on him to pop up when he heard that their mother had been baking and Piper was always more than happy to feed her oldest baby boy.

"If you're bored why don't you invite Clare over?" Chris remarked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Clare was another teacher at the middle school where Wyatt taught and they'd had an on-again off-again relationship for the last couple of years. There was no doubt that his brother liked her, but he had never felt comfortable enough to tell her his secret and that had driven a wedge.

Chris liked her well enough and had often urged Wyatt to decide if he wanted to get serious or not, but the other man constantly flip-flopped.

As far as Chris knew, they were currently trying to be "friends," but it was probably just a matter of time until they started up again.

The twice-blessed sighed.

"We hung out this weekend…well, more than hung out actually." He noted, flushing slightly at the memory. "But she's been weird again since Monday and I don't know what's going on." The blonde paused. "I guess this is why people always say that it's a bad idea to date co-workers."

"It's also a bad idea to keep a massive secret from a girl you want to be with." Chris muttered under his breath. He was pretty sure that Wyatt had heard him but chose to ignore the comment.

"Speaking of girls…" The twice-blessed began again, leaning forward in his chair. "Parker told me something interesting the other day."

Chris let out a groan and silently cursed his cousin. There was nothing Parker liked to discuss more than love and match-making, so he wasn't surprised that it had come up. But he had been doing his best to keep Bianca off of his mind during the last few days and he wasn't really in the mood to discuss it.

"You know what Parker is like." Chris said dismissively. He hoped that Wyatt would not make a big deal out of nothing. Sure, the encounter had been strange for a variety of reasons. But Bianca was just a witch that he had met for five minutes. He didn't have time for a relationship with everything else going on and what he had read about the Phoenix clan earlier that week had made him wary.

Apparently, they had demonic powers and were built to kill. Sure, she hadn't seemed aggressive and Gwen had said she was not on that path, but he did not need to take any unnecessary risks. No matter how beautiful those risks were…

"She's so keen to match people up, she just gets overly excited."

Wyatt starred at him for a long moment.

"She made it sound like it was a pretty big deal." He replied, clearly unwilling to drop the topic that quickly. "She said you were both in some sort of weird daze, and that her cupid senses were screaming that you had found your perfect mate."

The younger brother scoffed.

"Look, I'll admit it. She was really hot. I mean like seriously stunning." He said, unable to stop himself from picturing the dark-haired witch. "I was taken aback for a second. But I don't believe in all of that pre-destined crap. Not when it comes to this. I don't know her. Maybe we'd be a good match, maybe not. But I have too many things on the go right now. I can't really sort it out right now."

Wyatt was still looking at him skeptically. "The Charmed One's whitelighter doesn't believe in destiny?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Your whole life has been about destiny lately."

"Exactly." Chris shot back, unable to mask the bitterness in his tone. "And I'm trying to accept all of the Charmed stuff, and the whitelighter stuff. But I deserve to have one area of my life to myself, don't I? Everything can't be mapped out. I have free will!"

The older man threw up his hands in defeat. "Alright." He conceded, finally leaning back.

There was a pause as Wyatt glanced over at the book.

"What were you working on?" He asked, changing the subject.

Chris let out a long breath. "Something for the girls." He said vaguely. They still hadn't told the rest of the family about their plans for Quintu and were currently debating if they should. None of them wanted their parents to worry after what the family had just gone through and the fewer people they put in the path of danger the better. Plus they would be able to do the vanquish with just the power of three.

On the other hand, it never hurt to have backup. Chris was tempted to leave their parents out of it but to bring Wyatt and Mel in for a little extra support. He didn't want to reveal too much until they all agreed, however.

"Was just about to head out for some potion ingredients, actually." The younger brother continued.

Wyatt nodded before getting to his feet and glancing towards the door. "Don't let me stop you, then." He said, his mind clearly drifting to the plate of brownies that he knew was downstairs. "I'll go say hi to mom." He paused. "But call if you need any help."

The young man nodded. "Thanks Wy, will do." He stood up as well and, after taking one last glance at the book, he finally orbed down to his destination.

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Demonic markets were always crowded but Chris had visited enough times to know of a few hiding spots for a stealthy orb.

He materialized in a very large rock crevice, hidden from view, and took a deep breath before heading out into the fray. The young man had made a point of dressing in black to blend in but he always felt so out of place in situations like these. His heart rate was quick and he did his best to avoid eye contact with the other market goers as he made his way through the crowds.

As usual, Chris had taken a simple blocking potion to avoid detection but he was still nervous. Witches and whitelighters were not welcomed here and a Halliwell was the least welcomed of all. If he was caught by the wrong demon, he was screwed.

He wanted to get the egg and get out as soon as possible.

As quickly as he could without arousing suspicion, Chris made his way through the twisted lanes towards a stall he had visited before. Luckily, his memory had served him well and he managed to navigate correctly. He could see a tattered blue awning and he made his way into the makeshift shop.

There were a few demons present, and one was talking to the wizened old shop keeper. The man was ancient but looked fairly human aside from his oddly shaped teeth. A far as Chris knew, he was a pretty neutral demon who had no qualms about dealing with anyone who was willing to pay steep prices for his rare potions and ingredients.

After pretending to examine a few items that were displayed on the rocky shelves Chris shifted towards the shopkeeper as soon as he finished his previous transaction.

The old man looked at him knowingly, clearly recognizing him from his previous visits. Chris was pretty sure the man knew exactly who and what he was, but he was more interested in profit than exposure.

"You." He said, his voice raspy in his advanced age. "What is it you desire today?"

"A Verdock egg." The young man replied, keeping his voice low so that the other two demons in the shop did not hear. "Do you have one?"

Chris waited nervously as the man hesitated. Thankfully, he then gave a nod before shuffling towards the large cabinet on his left and beginning to rifle around.

The young man was thrilled that the rare ingredient was finally within his grasp, but he wished that the shopkeeper would move a little faster. He was clearly in no hurry as he looked and Chris could have sworn that one of the demons in the shop was starring directly at him.

He did his best to ignore the feeling of those beady eyes on his back, but it was nearly impossible.

The figure inched closer, he could sense it.

Smell it.

Its putrid breath brushed against his neck.

He needed to get the damn egg and get out.

It was hard to keep himself steady as he waited, impatiently tapping his finger on the stone counter.

"Thought you could escape, huh?"

The sound of an unexpected female voice sent a jolt through his body and Chris could not stop himself from jerking his head towards it. For a moment, he raised his hand in panic, ready to strike with a blast of telekinesis—but the sight before him made him freeze before he could.

It was not a demon who had spoken.

The voice had come from Bianca and, before he had time to process the situation, she had pulled both of his hands behind his back roughly and pressed her body against his.

His heart was pounding and he felt as if he was on fire.

As startled and worried as he was, he had to admit that it wasn't entirely unpleasant…

"Nice try, little whiteligher." She hissed in his ear, loud enough for the other demon in the shop to hear. "You're _my_ prisoner and I'm taking you to the power auction."

She placed emphasis on the word "my" and, from the corner of his eye, he could see the other demon in the shop back away with a grumble.

"Play along." She whispered, this time far too softly for anyone else to hear.

Despite his current surroundings, Chris felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had wanted to trust her motives, but she was a convincing actress and part of him had worried that he really was her prisoner for a second. Apparently, however, she was just getting him out of a potentially bad situation.

Just in time, too.

Thankful, he gave a subtle nod before looking back towards the shop keeper who had finally finished his rummaging and was holding out the egg he so desperately needed. It would be a huge shame, and potentially ruin the entire vanquish, if he left without it and he turned to Bianca as much as he could without alerting the demon to their side. "Need it," he mouthed, his eyes looking towards the shining egg.

Luckily, she caught on.

"How much for that?" She snapped, slapping a small coin purse down on the counter while maintaining a firm grip on his wrists with her other hand. "I can't let it fall into the hands of another repulsively good whitelighter, can I?"

The shopkeeper demanded three gold coins which she then tossed over to him with a scowl before snatching the egg and placing it in the bad that was strapped to her side.

"Now, move it you." She snapped at him this time, shoving him towards the edge of the stall with just enough roughness to make it convincing.

They left the tent without another word and no one batted an eye as she continued to march him down the narrow lanes. It wasn't uncommon for demons to drag their prisoners around and nothing about their behaviour seemed to arouse any suspicion.

After a few minutes of silent walking, they finally rounded a corner that led to an abandoned alcove in the rock face. Satisfied that they were now alone, she let him go and he turned to see her looking at him with worry and annoyance in her wide eyes.

"What the hell, Chris!?" She exclaimed in a forceful whisper, shaking her head in disbelief. "Do you make a habit of putting yourself in mortal danger or do you just feel particularly suicidal today?"

The young man narrowed his eyes. He was grateful for her help, but he did not like the implication that he could not take care of himself. If the demon had attacked he would have defended himself. He would have been fine.

Probably.

"I come here all the time. You know that, Bianca." He snapped back. It seemed that words had a habit of falling out of his mouth thoughtlessly when he was around her and he was instantly confused by his own statement. He did not go there all the time. And of course she didn't know what he did.

They had only met four days ago.

He didn't know why he had said that.

Was he losing his mind? Maybe she just made him nervous.

He could still feel the sensation of her body pressed against his—he probably wouldn't be able to get it out of his mind any time soon.

"I mean," he began again, giving his head a small shake. "I'm a witch, I can take care of myself."

Much to his annoyance, she snorted. "You're also a whitelighter, and you reek of good magic. You practically glow down here, Chris."

He scowled again.

"I took a blocking potion." He replied with a roll of his eyes. "I've never been caught before."

"Well, you almost were," Bianca said, letting out a tense sigh. "I was down here tracking a trok demon I've been trying to vanquish and I overheard a group of upper-level demons talking about how they could sense whitelighter magic nearby. When I focused, I could sense it too and I'm glad I found you before they did." She paused. "That demon in the tent would have grabbed you if I'd been five seconds later. You really would be headed to a demonic auction right now. Or worse!"

Perhaps it was slightly odd, but Chris could tell that she was genuinely frantic about the thought of him being captured. Maybe it was simply an indication that she really was a good witch who cared about protecting others, but it somehow seemed to be more than that.

This was only the second time they had met and yet it felt liken she already cared about him on a much deeper level than she should have.

There was a low rumble of voices nearby and Bianca gave another growl of annoyance.

"Shit. They can probably still smell you." She muttered as she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Come on."

Before Chris had a chance to reply the world around him rippled away and he felt himself hurling through the unknown. He was conscious enough to know that they were teleporting, but it was unlike anything he had ever felt. Orbing was as natural as breathing and he always revelled in the sound of the heavenly bells that pulled him upwards. It was comforting. Beaming with his cousins was pleasant too, if a bit weird. And pink.

But this…

It was one of the most unpleasant sensations he had ever experienced. The world around him had been thrown into terrifying darkness. His body felt as if it was being torn apart and, if he had been able, he would have screamed out in pain.

Thankfully, it only lasted a few moments but as soon as they landed Chris' knees buckled beneath him. He collapsed onto the dewy grass as his head continued to spin and his body tingled with the last jolts of pain. It took every ounce of strength he had not to vomit. If Bianca hadn't been there, he probably would have.

It took several long moments for his breath to steady and, as soon as he was able, he gathered the strength to take a few wobbly steps towards a nearby bench. They appeared to be in some sort of park and, luckily, they seemed to be alone.

Still suppressing a wave of nausea, Chris finally managed to look up at his companion.

"What the hell was that?" He asked, looking at her with wide eyes as he drew a ragged breath. He had been so sure that he could trust her and he hoped the pain had not been intentionally inflicted. His head was spinning.

Bianca looked towards her from her spot on the lawn. He was relieved to see that she seemed worried and that probably meant that his current state was accidental.

"I…we…" Chris could hear a hint of discomfort in her voice—it was certainly a different tone than the one she had been using to lecture him in the underworld. "Sorry, I shimmered us out. Did I…are you okay?"

The young man starred back at her with wide green eyes. He had been reading about Phoenixes during his limited spare time that week and he had read that they had acquired many powers of dubious origin in the decades after Salem. But he had not really expected this.

Shimmering was the quintessential demonic power.

And that certainly explained why his body had reacted so badly.

"You shimmer?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer. "Whitelighters aren't supposed to shimmer. It felt like my body was being torn apart."

She winced, clearly remorseful about what she had caused. "Oh my God, Chris, I'm so sorry. I didn't think."

He tried to shrug nonchalantly as he continued to recover from the unpleasantness of the experience. She was starring down at him and he felt pathetically weak under her gaze. She smart, gorgeous, and (apparently) a total badass.

And he was currently a quivering wreck.

This was not the second impression that he had wanted to make.

"You really are a beacon of good magic, aren't you?" Bianca mused as she took a few steps towards him and took a seat on the other side of the stone bench. She didn't seem put off by that fact, she was imply interested. Nevertheless, he felt uncomfortable with her assessment. He didn't want to be some helpless pacifist in her eyes. "No wonder every upper level demon at that market could sense you." She finished.

He let out a snort of annoyance. "I did take a blocking potion." He muttered, repeating what he had said while they had been down in the underworld. "It usually works."

She paused for a moment, looking him up and down. He was grateful for the darkness and prayed that she did not see his cheeks heat up. The blushing really had become a problem for him lately. It was as if he no longer had any self-control.

"I'm guessing that you've been using your whitelighter magic way more than usual lately, now that you actually have charges." Bianca commented. "You're probably getting stronger and that means a basic potion doesn't cut it anymore."

Chris did not like the idea that his magic was growing stronger with further use but he supposed that she might be right. Maybe it was like a muscle that grew with practice. His potions had worked before and now, apparently, they didn't. Only one thing had changed during that time.

"You know," she began again before letting out an amused chuckle. "I just shimmered us to a random spot that I knew was empty, but it seems sort of fitting, doesn't it?" He could see the playfulness in her eyes and for a moment he was confused by her comment. Then, he followed her gaze towards a tall stone statue that adorned the small parkette.

Chris had to suppress another groan.

It was a statue of an angel, complete with a halo, long robes, and large feathered wings.

He looked back to see that Bianca was still starring at him with a smirk on her face and he felt a pit at the bottom of his stomach. "Is it like looking in a mirror?" she joked.

Chris wished that he could have taken the comments lightheartedly but it seemed that he was incapable of relaxing right now. Especially around her.

His pride had already been wounded, and he resented the fact that he was (apparently), a weak goody-goody whose body could not even handle a simple shimmer.

"Is that how you see me?" He blurted out, instantly regretting his words and the bitterness in his tone. "Some helpless angel in need of rescue?" He was being so transparent. He might as well have been begging for her approval.

But he couldn't stop himself.

Chris was usually so guarded and had never let himself feel so utterly vulnerable. But with her, it was different. He suddenly had no filter.

To his surprise, she let out a quiet laugh as she shook her head. "Jesus, Chris, calm down." She said as she briefly brushed her hand across his.

He could feel his skin tingle where she had touched it. This time, in a good way.

"It was stupid to orb down into the underworld alone and unprotected. So I guess I think you're a bit reckless." The young woman stated, raising an eyebrow. "But you're definitely not weak and powerless."

There was a short pause before she continued, her voice much softer than before.

"Why do you care what I think anyway? We hardly know each other."

Chris kicked himself for wearing his insecurities on his sleeve before contemplating his answer to her question. Even though he had been thinking about the situation all week (despite his best efforts not to) he still had no idea why he was so drawn to her.

Why he cared so much.

She was just some witch he had run into in a shop and yet she had been on his mind constantly. He had thought about her, dreamt about her…pictured them together. And he simply could not shake the feeling that they had met before, even though he was equally convinced that they hadn't.

Nothing about it made any sense.

"There's something going on, isn't there?" Bianca asked, her eyes examining him once more. "You feel it too, don't you?" His face must have been enough to confirm her suspicions because she quickly continued. "Urgh, I knew it! It has been driving me crazy all week. As soon as I saw you at Gwen's I felt so strange. Like I was having the world's strongest deja-vu. I tried to chalk it up to the whitelighter powers having a weird effect on me but I don't think that's it. Ever since then I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes I see that ridiculously handsome face, no matter how hard I try not to! I've never been like this before. I'm not one of those girls. And I certainly don't believe in love at first sight or any of that nonsense…but something weird is definitely going on, isn't it?"

Chris stared at her, dumbfounded, as she finally finished her rant.

He could relate to everything she had said and he was relieved to hear that they were both feeling the same way. Maybe he wasn't losing his mind after all.

Chris could not stop himself from dwelling on a few of her words and he wondered if she had even realized what she said.

Handsome?

… _love_?

Maybe being around him made her blurt out things she didn't want to either. He felt slightly better about his own stupidity now.

"Your cousin," she began again, her eyes suddenly narrowing. "Her father is a cupid, right? Does she have the power to cause…whatever this is? Did she do something to us?"

Bianca sounded annoyed now and Chris quickly jumped to Parker's defence. "No, it wasn't her." He confirmed, hoping that the girl would believe him. "But she did feel it too."

The young woman furrowed her brow in confusion. "Feel what?" She pressed.

Chris starred down at the ground for a moment, wondering how much he should reveal. He didn't want to freak her out with all of the stuff Parker had said (it had certainly freaked him out, there was no question about that). On the other hand, something was clearly happening to her too and she had the right to know.

Maybe they could figure this out.

Together.

The thought of teaming up with her felt surprisingly natural.

"She said," Chris began hesitantly, "that her cupid senses went into overdrive when we were all in the shop the other day. Apparently she can sense…connections. And I guess we have a pretty big one." He paused, unable to read the expression on her face. "But don't worry." He added quickly, trying to reassure her that she was not stuck with him.

Bianca was perfect and he was a lanky, awkward, neurotic science nerd who was destined to spend his life on the sidelines, protecting the Charmed Ones.

She was way out of his league and this was probably the last thing she wanted.

"Parker also said that we don't have to do anything we don't want to." He finished. "People ignore connections all the time. We still have free will."

A long silence hung in the air after Chris spoke and he tried not to look away in discomfort. Her eyes were locked on his once more, but he still could not tell what she was thinking.

She was probably trying to figure out the best way to escape this intensely weird situation with a near-stranger.

"Chris…" she began finally, not breaking their gaze. "This isn't just about attraction. I think it's more than that. I hope you don't think I'm crazy, and I know we only just met, but I feel like I _remember_ you."

She paused, looking briefly at the statues and columns that surrounded them.

"Even now, I feel like we've been here. Together. But I also know I've never been here before in my life. I'm losing my mind."

Chris looked around for a moment too and an unsettling whisper once again passed through his head.

' _This is still our spot, Bianca_.'

His own voice echoed in his subconscious, speaking words he knew he never had.

"I feel like I remember you too. You're not crazy." He replied as he reached out and took her hand. He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but he was relieved that she did not pull back. "Or maybe we're both going crazy…but I know exactly what you're trying to say. It sounds so annoyingly cliché, but I can't stop thinking about you either. Being with you seems right. Comfortable. Even though we just met and it shouldn't. I don't know what's going on. I'm sorry." He paused, giving her a sympathetic smile. "We'll figure out a way to fix it."

He expected her to pull away but, much to his surprise, he leaned forward instead. Her face was only inches from his now, and he could feel the gentle warmth radiating off her body.

He could not stop his eyes from glancing down at her perfectly formed lips.

"We don't have to fix it, Chris." She said, her voice quiet and low. A shiver of desire ran down his spine. "I mean, unless you want to, of course. I understand why you would." Bianca paused, her eyes flickering downward as her own insecurities were revealed. "You're so unbelievably noble and good, and I'm…complicated. I get why you wouldn't want this."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise.

How could she possibly think that he didn't want this? The depth and speed of their attraction was strange, there was no doubt about that. And the fact that they both seemed to be grappling with mysterious distant memories was even stranger.

There were certainly many layers to decipher.

But none of that served to lessen the profound desire that he felt every time he thought of her.

Chris had always been so closed off and guarded. He had to be, with a family secret as massive and dangerous as his. He had only been with a handful of girls before and he had never felt a fraction of what he felt right now.

She was so close.

He could feel his longing build with every passing second.

"I don't want to fix this." He whispered.

Bianca placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Neither do I."

Unable to resist a moment longer, her finally leaned forward and captured her lips with a passionate kiss.

He revelled in the intensity of it.

The visceral need.

He somehow knew that this was not their first kiss and he also knew that there would be many more equally perfect ones.

But he did not want it to end.

For a brief second, it felt as if all was right in his crazy, messed-up world.

As they finally broke apart, the young man drew a shaky breath, his eyes once again locking with hers. He instantly yearned for more.

"What do we do now?" Chris whispered, biting his lip as he gently brushed a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Bianca gave him a small smile as her hand travelled upwards and coyly undid the first snap on her tight red shirt.

His body was pulsing with want.

"Orb us somewhere nice." She replied suggestively before boldly sliding a hand towards his lap. He hardly cared that she could now feel exactly how strong his desire was.

Grinning, Chris drew her in for another long kiss before allowing the world to dissolve around them.

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A/N- Reviews are much appreciated!


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing Chris perceived as he slowly opened his eyes was the sunlight.

He could see it streaming through a set of white gauzy curtains and he stared towards it for several moments as he gradually regained consciousness. It was clearly morning and he was nestled in a warm bed—but his surroundings were unfamiliar.

And he wasn't alone.

He jerked his head abruptly to the side as he heard the sound of a quiet moan.

Bianca was there.

Beside him.

Her dark hair was fanned out across her silky pillow and her eyes were still firmly shut against the morning rays.

Chris was not used to waking up with a beautiful woman at his side, and his heart rate quickened as he began to recall the events of the previous night. Bianca had swooped in and saved him from a somewhat foolish foray into the underworld. They had argued…and then he had kissed her.

He was usually so guarded and reserved, but something about her brought out his most impulsive side. All caution had been abandoned in that moment and, before he could really register what was going on, he had been orbing them across the globe. If his hazy memories were correct, they had managed to keep their hands off of each other just long enough to check into a Paris hotel—then they had spent the night in a fiery passionate embrace.

It was all a blur to him now (an amazing blur, but a blur none the less) and if he had not woken up to find her beside him then he probably would have doubted that it was real.

Christopher Halliwell did not wisk women he hardly knew off to Paris. He had always been somewhat shy in this area of his life. Sure, people seemed to think he was decently good-looking, but he had never been popular and he usually kept to himself. It was hard not to when you were sitting on such a massive family secret. Usually, when he had been tempted to be romantic and impulsive with a girl he had let logic prevail and reminded himself that all his hopes for a real connection would be lost when they found out what he was (or worse, if a demon attacked). Even dating witches had been difficult—his family was famous in the magical community and he could never really been sure if someone was interested in him, or just interested in meeting the Charmed Ones.

But with Bianca, none of his usual reservations had seemed to matter. They had not even crossed his mind after their first kiss.

All he had been able to think about was her. _Them_. And, despite the fact that they were practically strangers he felt more relaxed in her company than he had thought possible.

Apparently, she felt exactly the same way.

Neither of them could explain the quick and intense attraction between them but simply giving into his feelings had felt good. It was certainly a change for him and their night of passion had provided a release that he had needed more than he realized.

Everything about his life had become so crazy recently and he had done his best to keep himself together. As saddened and stressed as he was, he had felt a duty to be strong for his mother and his cousins. He was supposed to be a self-assured and stoic whitelighter now but keeping up that façade took its toll.

Showing Bianca his vulnerable side was more comfortable than it should have been and, once their first desires had been satisfied, they had stayed up late into the night talking about anything and everything.

If she had been a stranger before she certainly wasn't now and Chris could not suppress a smile as he felt her soft fingers brush against his cheek.

"Urgh, early." She muttered, finally opening her amber eyes as she turned towards him.

He lay a gentle kiss on top of her head before turning to glance at the clock on the hotel's nightstand.

"Not really." He replied, letting out a small yawn as he stretched his legs under the luxurious sheets. "It's already noon."

The girl groaned again before shifting towards him and placing her head on his chest.

"It's early when you stay up until six am." She replied with a slight huff.

Chris let out a laugh before wrapping his arm her small frame and holding her close. They lay like that for a long while, simply revelling in each other's warmth as they took in long, slow breaths.

Chris could not remember the last time he had felt so relaxed and he wondered, briefly, how long he could make this feeling last.

He did his best to keep the thought of its inevitable end from his mind. But he was still his mother's son, and he knew that things this wonderful rarely persisted for the Halliwell's.

"I wonder what my mother would say." Bianca mused quietly, finally breaking the comfortable silence.

As she had told him last night, her mother had been killed by a vengeful warlock about five years ago—she knew all too well what the loss of a family member felt like, and the cost that a magical destiny could have. It was one of many things that they seemed to have in common.

The girl gave a small chuckle. "I mean, she did turn her back on the coven." She continued. "But dating the Charmed One's whitelighter…that probably would have been a shock to her system."

Chris hesitated for a moment. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her comment and he had not missed her use of the word 'dating.' Was that what they were doing?

It seemed so unbelievably fast. And yet, hearing her say it out loud felt right…he had been unable to shake the feeling that they had already been together for years.

Chris decided that he liked that thought, and he smiled up at the ceiling above.

"We could head back to the demonic market and find you someone else down there if you prefer." He quipped, eliciting an eye roll and a playful jab in the side from Bianca.

Although she let out a laugh Chris looked down to see her smile slowly fade. He hoped his comment had not gone too far.

"God no." She confirmed forcefully before pausing. "But that's what the coven would want. I told you about my family and their traditions…"

The young man nodded.

She had indeed told him last night that the Phoenix coven had a habit of marrying demons every few generations to boost the destructive powers of their bloodline. Bianca's grandfather had been a demon. And if she and her mother had not gone into hiding, it would have been her turn to bear a demonic offspring.

She had already told him how much she hated the thought and how grateful she was that her mother had the strength to cut off their family when Bianca had been six.

"She would have accepted it eventually." The woman mused again, snuggling closer to Chris' side. "For all of her faults, my mother was a good woman. Despite her upbringing, she did not want to be a hired gun—and she definitely did not want that fate for me." Bianca paused for a moment and looked towards the window, as if recalling a distant memory. "I'll never forget the day we went into hiding." She continued. "I found one of her old hit lists and I asked her what it felt like to kill. That question seemed to make something snap inside of her. Next thing I knew, we were moving across town and putting every magical ward possible around our new house. I was so confused at the time—and really annoyed that I had to leave all of my friends and change schools—but now I understand what she did what she did. Thanks to her, I've always been able to make my own decisions and I chose to kill demons, not innocents."

"She sounds wonderful. And strong." Chris replied sincerely. He could only imagine how much courage and determination it would have taken for a single mother to turn her back on her powerful, and dangerous, family. "I can see where you get it from."

He could feel Bianca smile against his chest.

"She did hate whitelighters, though." The girl continued with another laugh. "I think the elders tried to assign us one once. All I remember is a lot of yelling in the other room and the sound of orbs exploding. The poor guy was probably too afraid to come back after she blew him up."

Chris snorted. That was a situation he knew all too well.

"My mother isn't a huge fan of whitelighters either." He commented with amusement as he recalled various confrontations that had occurred over the years. Bianca shifted and looked up towards him with surprise. "She's blown up her fair share as well."

The young woman furrowed her brow in confusion. "But…she married one." She replied, stating the obvious. "And then gave birth to three."

He let out another laugh.

"Yeah, she made an exception for dad." He said, smiling. Piper loved to rant about the powers that be, but she rarely included her husband in that camp. To her, he was just Leo and not one of them. Thankfully.

"They met and fell in love before she knew what he was, and his loyalty to her and the family has always come before his duty to the elders. He'd lost his powers because of that a few times, but the elders keep crawling back." Chris paused thoughtfully. "She doesn't say it much anymore, but we all know she'd prefer a normal life. She liked when dad clipped his wings and was pissed when he became a whitelighter again. She'd probably prefer a world where none of us had powers." He tried to shrug nonchalantly even though the thought made him somewhat uncomfortable. He'd always wanted to make his mother happy and he had always thought he wanted the same 'normal life' that she did.

Now, he wasn't as sure as he had once been and he could not help but wonder how disappointed she would be.

"No one in my family ever seems to have much of a choice about things." Chris continued with a heavy sigh. "It's always about fate or destiny or prophecies or whatever, no matter what we do. I used to think that things might be different for my generation, but that is clearly not the case."

Bianca gave him a sympathetic smile as she finally shifted herself into a sitting position against a pile of plush pillows.

As he joined her, he could not stop himself from simply staring at her for a moment, stuck by her effortless beauty. Part of him still wondered if this was really a dream.

"You can always fight it, Chris." She said, a hint of fiery determination in her eyes. "If that's what you want."

The young man paused for a moment, thinking about his reply. A week ago, he would have matched her determination—but now, he was much less sure.

Something was changing within him. Or maybe, he was simply embracing what had always been.

"I don't know what I want anymore." He finally answered as honestly as he could. "Like I said, I always thought I wanted a normal, magic-free life. But, as shitty as the situation is, part of me feels more alive and fulfilled when I'm helping the Charmed Ones." He hesitated again, looking towards her as another thought crossed his mind. "It's kind of strange." He mused, tilting his head to one side. "Being the Charmed One's whitelighter feels a bit like being with you. It's like it just fits, in some weird and inexplicable way. It's familiar. Even though it shouldn't be."

She gave a nod, clearly understanding what he meant.

"Then maybe it should be like this." She replied, gesturing between them as she spoke. "We could fight whatever is going on between us—and I think we both tried to for a bit. But just embracing it feels like such a relief, doesn't it? It may not make sense, but there is no denying that it is good."

He nodded in agreement. All of the turmoil and tension he had felt since first meeting her had melted away the moment they had kissed. It was wonderful to suddenly feel so free.

"So maybe the whole whitelighter thing is kind of the same." She continued. "Maybe you should stop trying to deny what just feels right and just embrace it. Who cares what anyone else thinks."

Chris nodded again. He had been thinking along those lines for several days and knew that he was moving in that direction. It was just hard to totally let go of the life he had once pictured—and the life he knew his mother pictured for him.

"I'm getting there." He admitted, grateful for her understanding. It was nice to have someone outside the family to talk about these things with and, for the umpteenth time in the last twelve hours, he felt lucky to be in her company.

She knew all of his secrets, and she seemed to somehow know _him_. Chris knew that there was no need for any sort of shield or pretense with Bianca. She was real. Honest.

There was no way to deny what they had already formed together.

"Like you said." Chris continued with a snort of amusement as he recalled their confrontation the previous night. "I practically glow with angelic magic. Might as well embrace it, right?"

He no longer felt bitter about that fact and his earlier insecurities had melted away. He knew now that he would not be judged by her.

Bianca raised an eyebrow as she inched closer, her had making its way up his firm chest.

"That may be true." She noted, her voice lower than before. "But I must say, there was nothing angelic about what we did last night…you clearly have more than one side."

The young man grinned at her implication before pulling her in for a deep kiss.

"Very true." He whispered back as they finally drew apart.

All thoughts of destines and fates once again began to fade away…

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It was late evening by the time that Chris finally orbed back to the manor. After a couple more hours at the hotel they had finally managed to do a bit of exploring in Paris before ending their day with a nice meal at a café and agreeing that they should head back to reality for a while.

He would have loved to stay there with her, basking in the Parisian sun, but Chris did not want his family to worry—or grow suspicious from his absence.

He was an adult, and his parents did not expect him to be home all of the time. But he had told his brother that he was out hunting for potion ingredients last night and had not been in touch with anyone since. Especially in light of recent events, they were bound to worry eventually.

So Chris had reluctantly orbed home and, after placing the Verdock egg on a safe shelf in the attic, had made his way down to the kitchen to see who was still awake (he could have sensed if he wanted too, but he was tired and it was still nice to do things the normal way sometimes).

To his surprise, he walked through the ornate wooden door to see his father and his Aunt Paige sitting at the large kitchen table, looking at a large map as they sipped from their mugs of tea.

It wasn't unusual for his Aunt to visit, but he had not seen her much since the funeral and she was usually busy at home with her twelve-year-old twins and ten-year-old son. But, Chris supposed, they were probably already in bed and it seemed that she had business to discuss with his father for some reason.

The both looked up from their task as he took a few steps into the room.

"Hey Chris." His Aunt greeted with a smile as he made his way to the table and took a seat to his father's left. "How are you doing?"

The young man hesitated for a moment, wondering how much he really wanted to share. The honest answer was 'great!'—but that might lead to more questions, and he wasn't exactly sure how his family would take the news of his unexpectedly rapid affair with a Phoenix witch. They'd probably be suspicious, and they'd want to find out everything they could.

Telling them was inevitable. But he didn't really feel up for it right now.

So he answered with a simple "fine."

After glancing down at the map for a moment, and noticing several red dots scattered across it, he soon continued.

"What is this?" He asked, his curiosity sparked. "Are you tracking demon activity?"

He briefly wondered why his father would be the one doing this with Paige, rather than his mother. Or his cousins. But his confusion was quickly cleared up.

"Not exactly." His dad replied, running his hand through his hair as he let out a long sigh. "An unprecedented number of whitelighters have been killed during the past week and we're trying to figure out if there are any discernable patterns."

Chris looked back at the map. There had be at least eighty dots, spread across all of the populated continents. If each one of those marked a death, that was certainly not good news.

His focus on helping the girls with Quintu had nearly driven last week's darklighter attack from his mind and he had not pursued their research on the seemingly advanced poison he had been struck with that night. As far as he knew, the arrow was still at magic school being examined by a few experts in the field.

"Have all darklighters started using the extra strong poison, then?" He asked, even though he was fairly certain of the answer.

His father nodded somberly.

"It's no surprise, really." Paige commented with a sigh. "News travels fast in the underworld, and anything that causes more death and destruction is bound to catch on." She paused. "As far as we can tell, this stuff can kill a whitelighter in less than two minutes. It used to take a few hours, at least. It's little wonder the attacks have suddenly been so successful."

Chris was not surprised to hear that news. He still remembered how horrible he felt after he had been attacked and he could only imagine how much worse it would be for a full-whitelighter.

He could see the stress and concern etched across his father's face.

"I haven't talked to your mother about this yet." He noted, his eyes briefly glancing upwards. She was probably asleep right now, and Chris was glad to know that she was finally getting a bit of rest. "I don't want to cause her any more stress. But you need to be extra careful right now, Chris."

The young man leaned back in his chair, somewhat annoyed that they seemed to think he needed more warnings than most.

"I'm always careful." He replied quickly, his arms folded across his chest. "Plus, as a half-breed, I'm a little less vulnerable than most."

He glanced at his Aunt. They were both lucky in that regard.

"I know." Leo replied, his concern not fading. "But you're also the Charmed One's whitelighter and that makes you target number one."

Chris snorted. "I'm not that important. The girls need way more protection than I do."

"I dunno. They probably have a framed picture of you in their lair that they use as target practice." Paige piped in unhelpfully.

Leo looked mortified by the thought but Chris chuckled at his aunt's trademark dark humour.

"You're the one I worry about." Chris remarked, turning towards his father. "You've been on their hit list way longer than I have."

The older man let out another sigh. "The fact of the matter is, we all have to be more careful now. The elders are going to summon all whitelighters Up There tomorrow for an emergency meeting and everyone will be put on high alert."

Chris could not suppress an eye roll at the mention of a meeting. He may have been embracing his duty to his cousins, but that did not mean he was willing to be at the elders beck and call. Besides, he remembered suddenly, he had already made plans with Bianca tomorrow.

"What time is this meeting?" The young man asked, unable to stop himself from asking. "I'm kinda busy tomorrow."

He watched as his aunt raised an eyebrow and he could tell that there was a quip at the tip of her tongue. For some reason, he had always had a more playful relationship with his youngest aunt than he did with most of his older family members. Sometimes she felt more like an older sister than an aunt.

Apparently, this was one of those times.

"Busy?" She asked, with a small smile. "Are you going to force the girls to hunt demons all day? Or do you have another date with the library?"

"Ha ha." He shot back, rolling his eyes before shooting her a playful glare. "Not that it's any of your business, dearest auntie, but I have an actual date tomorrow. With an extremely beautiful and brilliant witch. So you can keep your snark to yourself, thank you very much."

Paige's face lit up, clearly excited by the news and she quickly leaned forward. "Really? That's great!" She declared, her playful jabs instantly forgotten. "I want to know everything! Who is she? How did you meet her? Have you planned something romantic?"

Although he was happy that she was excited for him, Chris could not suppress a groan. He had not meant to revel this much and he knew how nosey every member of the Halliwell family could be.

And none of them could keep a secret, either, so it was only a matter of time before the news spread. His mother would probably know before breakfast now, and he could only imagine her reaction.

"It's all new." Chris said, trying to wave his hand dismissively. "And it's probably nothing. I'll be dating the library again before we know it. Now, about this map…"

Unfortunately, his aunt did not accept his brush off that easily. "Nice try, mister." She replied, sliding the map to the other end of the table so that he could no longer use it as a distraction.

Chris had to admit that it was nice to see her smile. She was probably eager for some good news after everything that had happened, and he couldn't really blame her.

"You're blushing, it's not nothing."

He let out a grunt of frustration and turned to see his father watching him intently. Chris could tell that he was curious too, but Leo was too polite and old fashioned to push him in the way that Paige did. He was close to his father, but this had never been the easiest of topic for him.

The man had been raised in the 1920s, after all. When it came time to "talk" to his sons he had mostly just given them tips on how to make a woman feel special with small, old-fashioned gestures of chivalry and respect. That was all well and good but dating in the modern world was no something they had ever really discussed. As the only mortal male in the family (and the only one who was not decades or centuries older than he seemed) Uncle Henry had actually been his go-to for that.

"Fine, whatever." Chris exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. The cat was already out of the bag, and if he was going to end this uncomfortable conversation he would have to share a little bit more. Then, hopefully, Paige would be willing to move on.

"I met her at Gwen's shop a few days ago." He said quickly, unable to meet either of his family members in the eye. "Like I said, she's a witch. And she's great." He paused. "I feel really comfortable around her, we just seemed to click."

"And she knows who you are?" His father piped in, apparently too curious to resist now.

Chris nodded. He could still feel the tell-tale blush on his cheeks and he silently cursed his body. "Yeah, she knows who I am. And what I am." He replied. "But that doesn't seem to matter much to her. It's not like before, when I could sense that girls were more interested in the family's reputation than they were in me."

He finally looked towards his aunt to see her beaming with excitement. "That's wonderful!" She proclaimed, grinning. "What's her name?"

Chris hesitated for a moment before deciding that he had already gone too far to turn back.

"Bianca."

BANG.

The young man jumped and jerked his head to the side at the sound of a loud and unexpected noise. For a moment, his instincts kicked in and he braced himself for an attack, but as he looked around the room he realized that his dad had simply dropped his half-full mug of tea on the ceramic floor. The mug had shattered, spraying its contents under the table.

"I…sorry." Leo muttered, flustered. "My…my hand must have slipped."

He quickly made his way to the counter to get a cloth. Chris watched, confused by his sudden change in demeanour. Sure, dropping the mug had created a bit of a mess, but his dad seemed far more disturbed by it than he should have been.

He turned his head back towards his aunt. To his surprise, she too was starring down at the floor with a look of concern etched on her face.

"It's just a mug guys." Chris remarked, furrowing his brow as he looked between the two. "Mom hated that one any way."

Leo briefly forced a smile but it quickly faded as he got down to wipe up the mess. He worked in silence, slowly picking up the shattered pieces as his aunt continued to look on, as if in a daze.

"Right…" Chris muttered under his breath, finding no logical explanation for their current shift in moods.

It couldn't be about the mug, he reasoned. Was it because of what he had said?

His father had dropped his drink the second he said her name.

Did they somehow know Bianca?

That seemed impossible and he tried to shake the thought from his mind. And yet, he could almost sense the sudden tension in the air. Something wasn't right and they were acting incredibly strange.

Everything with Bianca had been so strange…

He could not stop a pit of worry from forming in his stomach. What the hell was going on here? Had his family met her before? Was their intense attraction the result of some spell gone wrong? He didn't like the thought of their bond being an artificial creation of magic, but it certainly would explain a lot.

"Okay, what's going on here?" Chris asked, his eyes following his father as the man dumped the last of the shards in the garbage bin.

"The second I said Bianca's name the two of you started acting all weird." He paused. "And if I'm being honest, everything about this situation has been weird. And since nothing in our lives is ever normal and straightforward, I'm guessing you both know something."

A long silence hung in the air as his father and aunt exchanged a long glance. He could tell just by watching that they were wordlessly debating what to do next and he was increasingly sure that something was up.

"Christopher." His father began, finally turning towards him.

His dad hardly ever used his full name and the young man's worry continued to grow.

"I don't know the best way—"

Before Leo could finish his sentence, Chris let out a sudden yelp of unexpected pain. Nothing had harmed him in the comfort of the manor's kitchen, but he instantly realized that he could feel the pain of one of his charges.

One of the girls had been hurt and, as he abruptly stood up from his spot, he could hear their frantic cries of help echoing in his mind.

As experienced whitelighters, his aunt and father both recognized his reaction and Leo gave him a reassuring nod.

"Go. We'll talk soon."

Without another moment of hesitation, Chris orbed to the Charmed Ones.

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A/N I'd love to know what you think! I hope people are still reading.


	12. Chapter 12

Chris arrived at his aunt and uncles house to find his cousins in a frantic state.

All three were near the front door—Prue had her body against it, as if holding it shut. And Peyton was crouched next to the unconscious body of Parker. The middle sister was sprawled out on the hall carpet, her right side dripping with blood.

Clearly, she had been the one who was hurt and her sisters looked towards him with a combination of worry and relief.

"Chris! Thank god. Parker's hurt." Peyton said, gesturing him forward.

He could hear strange sounds coming from outside but he quickly moved towards his cousin, knowing that healing was the first priority.

Kneeling down, he placed his hands over the large wound and let out a breath of relief as a golden glow appeared. She had been in rough shape but she was still alive and she was going to be okay. The gash began to magically fade as his magic spread across the area.

A few moments later, Parker opened her eyes and Peyton pulled her into a tight hug.

"You're okay!" The youngest sister proclaimed, her relief evident. "I was so scared!"

The older girl took a shaky breath and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replied as she tried to steady herself. "Did I get him?"

Prue took a quick glace through the doors peephole before giving her head a sombre shake.

"No, but you wounded him a bit. That gave us time to get back into the house." She paused as a loud sound from the front lawn echoed through the hall. "Shit, I hope the shields hold."

Although he was beginning to piece events together, Chris knew that he would need more information if they were going to come up with a plan. Time was clearly of the essence.

"What happened?" He asked before helping the middle sister to her feet.

The three exchanged a worried glance.

"We decided to go for a walk and get some fresh air." Prue explained, a definite quiver in her voice. There was no question that all of them had been shaken by whatever had taken place outside.

"And when we got back… _he_ was here." The girl finished, her expression darkening as she said the word "he."

There was no doubt who "he" was.

Apparently, Quintu had finally decided to attack.

"He was just standing there waiting for us." Peyton shuttered, briefly closing her eyes. "And he had a huge pack of darklighters. They must have formed some sort of alliance."

Chris nodded, his worry growing with every passing moment. "You should have called me." He said, hating the thought of the girls facing their mother's killer alone.

Prue shook her head stubbornly. "No way. Not with that many darklighters around." She replied, recalling the events of their last encounter. "But we should have beamed inside right away. I think we were all too stunned, though. Just to see that creature in front of our home. Mocking us. I tried to blast, and they Parker tried to blow him up. Nothing seems to have much of an effect on him, though, and he managed to get her with a fireball before we could beam inside." The oldest Charmed One paused and he could tell that she was fighting back tears as she described their ordeal. "He's still out there, Chris." She continued, her body still firmly against the door. "The shields we placed around the house are holding for now, but what if his attacks weaken them? What are we going to do?"

The young man did his best to steady himself as his mind raced with ideas. Quintu was just beyond that door, blasting the protective magic the family had placed after his aunt's death. He knew from experience that even Halliwell magic could not hold every attacker off indefinitely—and they were not ready to take on the demon once and for all.

Unfortunately, killing him was not an option. The potion had not been brewed and the brute was not yet at his lowest level of power.

They would have to banish him somehow and hope that he stayed back for one more week while they prepared for the final battle.

A blast from outside rattled the walls of the house and he watched the girls flinch. He was quite certain he had jumped as well, but he knew they would never prevail if they let their fears get the best of them.

Face set with determination, Chris quickly walked towards the door and nodded at Prue. She stepped out of the way and the young man looked through the peephole, hoping to get a better sense of what they were up against.

Although the view was limited, he could easily make out the greyish from of Quintu. He was a human-esque demon aside from his ashy flesh and the dark markings on his face. The creature was almost statue-like and there was a definite ancientness to his appearance. Chris could almost sense the power radiating off of him, even from several yards away. There was no doubt that this demon had been acquiring power for millennia.

It was dark, but he could also make out the form of several smaller creatures behind him, scattered across the lawn. There must have been at least fifteen, and Quintu had turned towards them, his hand outstretched.

Chris watched as a beam of grey mist shot towards his darklighter minions, enveloping their outstretched bows before finally fading away.

After finishing whatever he had been doing, Quintu turned back towards the house. The young man could not suppress a shiver as he looked into his cold, dead eyes.

Chris took a wary step away from the door as the demon began to advance.

"Come out come out, little Charmed Ones." A deep voice commanded, causing the walls around them to shake once more. "It's time to join your precious mother."

Peyton let out a strangled whimper and Chris stepped protectively in front of all three of the girls, wishing that he could spare them from this ordeal. They did not need this so soon after the tragedy that they had faced—and yet, as the new Charmed Ones, he knew that they were the only people capable of keeping the demon at bay.

"We should go." Prue whispered frantically. "Dad isn't home and the house is just a house. That thing can destroy it if he wants, but he won't destroy us. We can beam out."

"We can try." Chris agreed, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "But I have a feeling it won't work. I saw a few crystals I didn't recognize out on the lawn. He may have placed a shield of his own."

He turned to see Prue's eyes widen before she dissolved into a beam of pink, testing his claim.

A moment later, she stumbled back down onto the floor, clearly blocked by whatever the demon had done outside.

"Damn it." She hissed, flashing with anger. "That bastard."

"Nice try little witches." The mocking voice called, echoing loudly in the hall. Apparently, he had sensed the attempt. "But there is no escape now."

The house shook as yet another wave of dark magic catapulted towards it.

"My friends are going to kill your disgusting little whitelighter. And then I am going to finish what I started. The Power of Three will finally be broken once and for all."

Doing his best to brush off the threatening remarks, Chris turned to the girls. They were all white-faced and scared, but he could see a spark of determination as well. There was no question that they had all inherited their mother's bravery.

"We can't vanquish him yet." Chris began, a plan forming in his mind. "But a power of three spell should be enough to banish him to the underworld for at least a few days.

As another blast of power shook the house, Chris dashed to a nearby table and picked up a notepad and pen. He knew that there was not much time and, thankfully, the words began to flow quickly.

The many hours he had spent studying the Book of Shadows had definitely paid off.

"Here." He said, passing Prue the spell he had scrawled out. "We'll need to open the door but what remains of our shield should stop him from entering long enough for you guys to say the spell."

"Should?" Parker asked, her brown eyes wide.

He wished that he could provide more reassurance but he did not want to lie to his charges. There was always a chance that things would not go to plan.

"Hold hands and say it as quickly as you can." He said as the girls glanced down at the spell. "I'll open the door."

There was another blast and the three nodded, all-too aware that time was of the essence.

"If it doesn't work, then we make a run for the street and orb out, okay?"

"Okay." Prue agreed as she took Parker's hand and gestured for Peyton to come forward.

Chris moved towards the door and reached for the brass knob with a quiver in his hand. "You can do this. Just focus on the spell." He said, once again wishing that they did not have the grizzly ask of coming face to face with this demonic murderer. "Ready?"

The three nodded again and, without further hesitation, the young man pulled open the wooden door.

As he stepped back he could see the demon just beyond the threshold, his army of darklighters standing behind, their eyes maliciously focusing on him.

"Now!" He shouted, giving the girls the final push they needed.

" _Evil winds that blow,_

 _That which forms below._

 _No longer may you dwell,_

 _Banishment takes you with this spell_."

Their united voices echoed through the small hallway, determined and strong as they faced the creature who had already caused so much pain.

For one heart stopping moment, Chris watched a smile begin to form on Quintu's face and he feared that their efforts has been in vain.

The demon opened his mouth, clearly ready to mock them with a threatening retort, but a sudden rush of supernatural wind blasted forward—knocking him, and his minions, backwards onto the grass.

Before any of the attackers had the chance to regain their composure a bright pink light engulfed their forms.

They could hear Quintu let out one final roar of rage before the light flashed, whisking them all back to a distant corner of the underworld.

Chris blinked as darkness fell once more. All evidence of the demonic attack was now gone and he finally let out a long sigh of relief before pushing the door shut once more.

He could feel his body shake involuntarily as relief replaced fear and he turned to see the girls standing together, their knuckles white and their faces shell shocked from the attack.

They had all survived, but that did not mean no damage had been done.

"You're okay." Chris whispered, his voice not nearly as strong or confident as he wanted it to be. "We're all okay."

Peyton was the first to move and, before he knew what was happening, he felt her small frame barrel into his body. She burred her head in his shirt and he could quickly feel her hot tears seeping through. Gently, he guided her into the living room and held her close as they took a seat on the couch.

Parker followed behind, collapsing into a nearby chair while Prue began to pace back and forth in threshold between the rooms.

Silence fell as the four Halliwell's tried to regain their composure. Coming face to face with Quintu had undoubtedly shaken them all and Chris knew that no words could take away the anger, pain and fear that they had all felt.

"I'm going to kill that bastard." Prue muttered as she continued to walk back and forth.

Chris was not surprised to see the oldest Charmed One react with the most apparent anger—she had always been the most fiery of the three and she had never been good at masking her feelings. Parker, for her part, was fairly stoic. She ignored her sister's words as she stared ahead, as if in a daze.

Perhaps she was simply trying to process the shock.

Peyton was trying to slow her tears, but it was apparent that she was overwhelmed by the experience. He gave her a tight squeeze as he continued to hold her close.

The girl was mature for her age and it was sometimes easy to forget that she was only sixteen. No one this young should have deal with all of this, he mused bitterly.

He could not help but admire how strong they had all been in the face of life-threatening danger.

They would only become more formidable as time went on.

"That spell should keep him away for at least a few days." Chris said, hoping that his words provided some reassurance. "Nevertheless, it might be a good idea to head over to the manor until we know for sure." He paused. "Where is your dad?"

Parker drew a long breath. "He's overseeing some charges at a wedding in New Zealand." She said, her voice soft as she finally snapped out of her haze. "Thank goodness." The girl paused again, tilting her head to the side. "God, if he finds out what happened he'll be beside himself. Do we have to tell him?"

Chris pursed his lips as he contemplated his answer.

Sure, keeping this attack a secret from the rest of the family would protect everyone else from a level of stress that they did not need. On the other hand, sneaking around might backfire and, if Quintu was going to attack, it was probably better to have everyone on high alert.

Maybe it was time to let the rest of the Halliwell's in on their plans.

After the events of that night, he was beginning to think that they would need their help.

"We won't be able to do the vanquish for another week." Chris began, stating the obvious. "And he might have time to plan another attack before then. Everyone needs to be on alert. Plus," he added, "your dad is going to want to know why you're at the manor, and he should probably stay there too until we can repair the shields here. I think we have to tell him."

Parker looked somberly down at the floor as Prue finally stopped pacing behind her.

"Fine." She snapped, clearly not happy at the thought of telling their dad what had happened. "But if he starts spewing that crap about us being too young to deal with this then I'm out."

"Prue," Parker began, turning towards her sister. "You have to be a little more understanding. Think about it from his perspective for a minute."

The oldest sister continued to scowl. "I think he made his perspective pretty clear last week." She shot back. "And, as we've just proven, he's wrong about what we're capable of."

"Yeah but if you don't shut—"

"Both of you stop it!" Peyton cut in, wiping the last of the tears from her reddened cheeks.

The other two looked towards her, surprised by the sudden surge of forcefulness.

She may have been small, but it was clear that Peyton knew how to take command.

"Chris is right." She began, nodding towards the witchlighter. "We can't really hide this anymore and we need to tell everyone. It may not be what we want, but we don't have a choice. It's not safe to stay here while the shields are weakened and we can't just move into the manor with no explanation. Plus, as we just saw, Quintu is amassing an army. We can vanquish him when the time comes, but we're going to need help warding off every vile creature that he brings with him. We need the family and we need a plan. So let's stop the bickering and get on with it."

There was a moment of silence as the girl finished and Chris could not help but send her a proud smile. Even in their darkest hour the girl was ready to rise to the task ahead.

"Okay then." Chris said as the older siblings stared on, subdued. "I'll remove Quintu's crystals from the lawn while you guys pack a few things to take to the manor. Then we'll orb over."

Without any further protest the three nodded in agreement as they set about their tasks.

There was no doubt that the fight ahead would be long and hard but, as Chris watched the Charmed Ones disappear from view, another smile crossed his face.

Now, more than ever, he knew that they would prevail.

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When Chris and the girls arrived at the manor they were somewhat surprised to find that Leo, Paige and Piper were already wide awake.

It was half past midnight, and rather unusual for all to be up this late—but, apparently, the three had been having some sort of discussion in the living room and did not look the least bit sleepy. Chris could not help but notice the awkwardness of the silence that fell as he orbed the four of them into the room but he had little time to question it.

The strange interaction with his father and aunt after he had mentioned Bianca had not been forgotten (and he suspected his mother had now been filled in) but there were more pressing matters at hand.

After explaining that they needed to have a family meeting, they had called for Wyatt, Mel and Coop to join them. Once all had arrived, Chris and his cousins began to describe what they had been working on, and what had happened earlier that night.

As he expected, the oldest members of the family all appeared worried and concerned but, so far, none (not even Uncle Coop) had put up much of a protest as they spoke.

"So we figure it's best if the four of us stay here until we can do the vanquish next week." Peyton explained, gesturing towards her sisters and their father. "We can repair the shields at our house, but the ones here are stronger anyway and it's probably best if we all stick together. If that's okay."

Chris watched as his mother nodded in agreement. "Of course, sweetheart." She said, offering her young niece a smile. "We have plenty of space upstairs. You are always welcomed here for as long as you want."

That was no surprise, but his cousin smiled gratefully.

There was a brief pause before Paige spoke.

"You said Quintu shot some sort of grey mist towards his darklighters." She began, looking towards Chris who had just described what he had seen through the peephole earlier.

The young man nodded in confirmation.

"Interesting." She mused as she exchanged a look with Leo. "I'm willing to bet he's the one responsible for the enhanced poison that they've been using recently."

His father tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "That's very possible." He replied, his brow furrowing with worry. "Some upper-level demons have the ability to enhance poisons, and this demon has had centuries to acquire that kind of advanced magic." The man paused again. "That would explain why the experts at magic school couldn't detect any differences in the arrows they've been analyzing. It's not a new kind of poison, it's just the old formula with a magical boost."

"Why would such a powerful demon be wasting time and energy helping darklighters?" Wyatt piped in from his perch on the couch. "Isn't his main goal to destroy the power of three?"

The young man had been asleep when they had called him and Chris could not help but smirk at the sight of his comically tousled blonde hair.

Setting his amusement aside, Chris nodded at his brother. "Yeah." He agreed. "But using darklighters would have been a good way to destroy the last power of three." He pointed out, glancing towards his Aunt Paige. "Plus, like every demon, he probably wants to destroy the entire family. And a darklighter army could successfully kill five of us with minimal effort on his part."

He could see the look of alarm on his mother's face as she thought of a superpowered darklighter army harming her children, husband and sister crossed her mind.

"Hurrah." Mel muttered sarcastically as she crossed her arms across her chest. Clearly, she did not like the thought of being a target either. "The joys of being a half-breed."

"You should all stay here until we can figure out a way to protect you." Piper stated firmly as she placed a hand on her daughter's knee.

Chris and his sister shared an identical eye roll at the thought.

"No way." Mel replied, shaking her head. She was quickly joined by a chorus of "no's" from Wyatt, Chris and Paige.

Piper looked towards her husband pleadingly, but the man threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat. Chris was willing to bet that he didn't want to be housebound for a week either, even though he was the most vulnerable of them all.

"We can all take care of ourselves, mom." Chris began. He completely understood how his cousins felt about their father's protectiveness and he could not suppress his annoyance. "We'll make a new batch of darklighter vanquishing potions tomorrow and we'll all keep some on hand until this is over, okay?"

The woman reluctantly slouched back her chair while muttering something about a stubbornness gene, but she did not protest (for now).

"I don't think you girls should go to school next week."

It was Uncle Coop who spoke this time and Chris could instantly see a flash of anger on Prue's face. The man had been fairly quiet as they had recounted their story, but there had been no way to mask the worry and fear on his face.

Chris was pretty sure that he was in a partial state of shock—but, perhaps, that was now wearing off enough for him to put up a fight.

"You have got to be joking." Prue replied, her brown eyes narrowing as she looked challengingly at her father.

"I'm not joking, Prue." The cupid responded, looking at his oldest daughter. "It is only a week and, as you have just told us, that creature is out there somewhere plotting to destroy you. The manor is the safest place for you to be. Why take unnecessary risks? It's reckless!"

Chris straightened in his chair. The tension was thick in the air and he feared it would get worse before it got better.

Prue was incensed.

"Here we go again!" the girl exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration. "I knew we shouldn't have told him." She said, shooting a quick glare at her sisters. "Despite what you may think, dad, we're not weak and helpless. And we deserve to keep our lives as normal as possible. If we stay here and hide, it's like he's already won!"

"Sweetheart, it's seven days, I don't think—"

"Sure, it's only seven days now. But what about the next time there is a threat? Or the time after that?" Prue drew a deep breath. "Like it or not, we're the Charmed Ones now and someone is always going to be after us. There is nothing we can do to change that, but the one thing we CAN control is how we live our daily lives. And I, for one, would like to go to class and see my friends. We need to savour every normal minute we can get! So butt out!"

A brief since hung in the air as the standoff continued. Parker was looking between her sister and her father with worry etched in her face and Chris could see that tears were once again welling in Peyton's eyes.

They had all dealt with enough that night. They did not need another family blow-out and their current level of exhaustion was only going to make everything seem worse.

"Look, Uncle Coop." Chris said, standing up from his spot as he tried to diffuse the situation. "I get that this is not an ideal situation, and I understand that you want the girls to stay safe." He briefly glanced towards his own mother. "But the chances of Quintu attacking anyone in broad daylight are slim and, as they proved tonight, they are perfectly capable of defending themselves. Plus," he added, "I can sense them at all times and I promise that I'll be there the second there is any danger. I get that it's hard, but they're the Charmed Ones now and we all have to accept it."

He watched as his uncle folded his arms across his chest as he looked at his nephew.

"Did the elders tell you to say that?" The older man replied, unable to mask the bitterness in his tone.

Chris did his best to fight back his own flash of anger at the remark—the man was grieving and worried about his daughters' lives, he reminded himself. He could be forgiven for his jab, even if it stung.

Before Chris could formulate a diplomatic reply Piper cut in, jumping to his defence.

"My son is not a mouthpiece for the elders." She stated firmly, staring down her brother-in-law in the way that only Piper Halliwell could. "Chris is a wonderful whitelighter. Trust me, I know. And he only wants what is best for the girls. We all do. And we're not going to get anywhere if we just bicker all night."

Prue snorted and turned away from her father while the man gave a whispered apology.

"I think we're all pretty tired." Leo chimed in, stating the obvious as he surveyed the room. "Why don't I set up the beds in the guest rooms so that we can all get some sleep. There is a lot to discuss, but we should wait until the morning."

Chris could have sworn that his father shot him a worried glance, but he chose to ignore it.

The man was right. He was absolutely exhausted and did not have the energy to accomplish anything else that night.

The others seemed to agree, and with a few more muttered words the Halliwell's began to disperse, all grateful for a warm bed and a peaceful night of rest.

There was no telling what tomorrow might bring.

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A/N- Reviews much appreciated! They help keep me writing!


	13. Chapter 13

Despite his exhaustion, Chris woke up much earlier than he would have liked. His body roused him from his slumber just before six in the morning and he groaned as he looked at the numbers on the clock.

There was no need to be up at that time on a Sunday but, since there was a lot to get done, he had reluctantly rolled out of bed and made his way downstairs. Now that he had the Verdock egg (thanks to Bianca) he could get started on the vanquishing potion. And he could brew up some extra darklighter vanquishing potions on the side, just to appease his mother.

Truth be told, he wasn't overly worried about another attack in the next week. The power of three spell the girls had used to banish the demons was powerful and, if his previous experiences were anything to go by, they would probably be tied to the underworld for several days as the charm ran its course. They'd probably have to summon Quintu next Saturday as the full moon reached its peak and, hopefully, that would be the end of this entire horrible ordeal.

Chris paused before he entered the kitchen, surprised to hear the sound of voices from the other side of the door. He was usually the earliest riser in the house—and six was early, even for him.

"She tried to kill him, Leo!" He heard his mother say, her voice a forceful whisper.

Apparently, even at this hour, they she was worried about being overheard.

Chris heard his father let out a deep sigh. "But this is a different timeline, now. Chris is different, and so is she. I don't think it's fair to condemn her for another life." The man paused. "By that logic, we should be judging Wyatt for what he did as well."

Piper muttered something inaudible as the young man inched closer to the door.

He could not be certain, but he was willing to bet that he knew who they were talking about. "She" was probably Bianca, he reasoned—and, apparently, she was the topic of heated discussion.

Although it may have been a good idea to eavesdrop from the hall for a bit longer (he wanted to get the truth, after all, and he was not convinced they would give it to him face to face) Chris could not stop himself from entering the room.

After the attack, his earlier encounter with his father and Aunt had almost been forgotten but the whispered words had brought everything flooding back. Leo and Paige clearly knew something and had started acting odd at the mention of Bianca's name. Now his parents were up at the crack of dawn talking about her. And him.

Something was going on and the young man did not want to wait a moment longer to find out what it was.

"Chris!" Piper exclaimed, bringing her hand to her chest in surprise as her youngest son burst into the room.

She recovered quickly and jumped up from her spot before pulling him into a tight hug. "You should get some more rest, sweetheart." She said, drawing back and looking towards him.

He was a bit surprised to see a hint of redness in her eyes (had she been crying?) but he stubbornly shook his head.

"It's a bit hard to sleep when you're all acting so damn strangely." He glanced at his father, who was looking down at his folded hands on the table. Chris could almost sense his discomfort and he was sure that his suspicions had been correct. "You were talking about Bianca, weren't you?" He asked, taking a few steps back from Piper's embrace.

They were hiding something, and he refused to be brushed off, no matter how distressed she looked.

His mother flinched at the sound of her name and looked like she was about to reply when Leo gently cut in.

"You should take a seat, Chris." He said, gesturing towards one of the empty chairs. "You too, Piper. This is going to take a good long while."

The woman turned towards her husband, her eyes flashing with worry. "Leo, we haven't decided what to say, yet." She protested, shaking her head. "It's too soon. I'm not ready."

"We have to, Piper. We never should have waited this long."

There was a pause as Chris watched his parents engage in a silent standoff.

Surprisingly, it was his mother who threw up her hands in frustration before taking her seat. It was rare to see the mighty Piper Halliwell falter and, if she was conceding so easily, part of her must have agreed with her husband. That did not mean that she was happy about it, however. Chris could see the tears begin to well once more as she looked up towards him.

The young man stared for a moment longer, wary and confused by their odd behaviour. Everything about this was very odd— they seemed worried, and emotional. And apparently, they knew something about Bianca that he didn't. That part wasn't too surprising. Bianca was from a magical family associated with evil and it was possible that their paths had crossed. That had been the most logical explanation he could come up with.

He wasn't sure why his mother was on the verge of tears, however. Even if she had met the Phoenix before and disapproved of their union, her current level of grief seemed inexplicable.

"Alright, I need to know what the hell is going on here." Chris stated as he took a few steps towards one of the empty chairs.

He was facing both of his parents now and he watched as Leo placed a supportive hand on Piper's knee.

Neither of them managed to speak and they exchanged another glance.

Chris could not suppress a frustrated sigh. If they disapproved of his girlfriend, it shouldn't be this hard to say it. His mother was not usually one to keep such opinions to herself.

"Well, what is it then?" Chris pressed again, his annoyance evident. "You know that Bianca is a Phoenix and you think she's evil? Because I can assure you that is not true. Her mother left the coven and—"

"Chris, that's not it." His father interjected, his tone laced with sympathy as he looked towards his son.

It was as if the older man felt sorry for him but Chris had no idea why that would be the case.

"What is it then?" He huffed, throwing his hands up in frustration. They were being impossible, and it was far too early to deal with their slow and cryptic approach.

The two exchanged once last look before Piper drew a deep breath. Her voice was shaking, but she finally managed to speak.

"Twenty-four years ago," She began, her reddened eyes locked on her son. "When the Titans attacked and your father became an elder, we were assigned another whitelighter."

Chris furrowed his brow in confusion. He knew that had been a difficult time for his parents, that his father had eventually given up his post and (after a few years as a mortal) became the Charmed One's whitelighter again. It was, perhaps, a bit odd that they had never mentioned the existence of another whitelighter during Leo's absence, but Chris had never thought much of it. And he had no idea why this was such an emotional topic for them…or why it had anything to do with Bianca.

"Okay. That's good, I guess." He said, his confusion evident. "It that important somehow? Who was the new whitelighter?"

Piper drew another breath.

"You were." She replied.

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When he looked back on it later, Chris wasn't sure how he had endured the entire conversation. As his mother and father recounted the story of his trip to the past, and his subsequent death, his mind had screamed at him to run.

He was angry…shocked.

But—most of all— he felt betrayed.

These people had raised him and loved him for twenty-four years. He had always thought that they were open and honest with him and he had trusted them to do what was right.

His father was a god-damn _angel_ and his mother was one of the strongest good witches on the planet. They were supposed to represent all that was virtuous and moral.

But they had been sitting on this massive secret the entire time. They had started lying to him the moment he had been born and he had no idea how to process that fact.

It was as if he didn't know them any more.

As he sat, frozen in shock, all he could do was focus on his breathing.

In and out, in and out.

That was the only thing keeping him steady as the world around him seemed to turn on its head.

"I'm so sorry, Chris." His mother choked, her tears falling freely now. "We thought about telling you so many times. When you were thirteen, then eighteen, then twenty. But it never felt right and we kept pushing the inevitable further and further back." She paused, looking to her husband for support. "We knew that keeping this from you wasn't right, but we also wanted you to grow up unburdened by the past. We didn't want you to feel like you were living in his shadow."

Chris gave no response. He simply stared at them.

They felt like strangers to him now and he had no idea what to say. How was one supposed to react when finding out that they had died to save the world in another life?

"You didn't seem to remember anything from the old timeline." Leo continued, his voice strained with concern. "Initially, we worried that your memories might come flooding back. But we were thankful that they didn't. That world…it was a horrible place. You deserved so much better."

The young man let out an angry scoff. Leo was right about one thing—he did deserve better.

Everyone deserved better than this.

And the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if they were wrong about his memories. They had operated based on assumptions that they had never confirmed.

It was true that he did not remember what they had described, but there had been so many strange moments in his life that could now be interpreted in a different light.

As a child, there had been the dreams. He had woken up with a fright so many times, most of the disturbing images of what he had seen in his slumber quickly fading. But he could still remember bits and pieces, even now.

Wyatt had been in so many of them. But not the Wyatt he knew. It had always been hazy but, after one of his dreams, Chris was always secretly wary of his brother for a couple of days—even when the boy had done nothing to deserve it. There were times when the sight of the twice-blessed had filled him with fear. That had always confused him.

Now, it seemed to fit. Apparently his seemingly easy-going big brother had been the source of all evil in a now-erased past.

He knew that this Wyatt would be mortified by the thought—but Chris found it easier to picture than he wanted to admit.

Then, there had been the whispers. Sometimes, when he entered a place, he could swear that he heard a voice in the back of his mind. The voices were usually familiar—his mother, his father, his aunts—but they spoke words that he knew had never been said.

He could vividly recall one particular incident when he had been visiting his mother's club with Aunt Phoebe. They had gone into the back room to get a fresh box of napkins when he had _sworn_ he heard his aunt ask him if he was Wyatt's little brother. " _Of course_ " he had said with a laugh, confused by the silliness of her question. But she had simply looked at him and sown that she had not said a word.

Chris had always brushed it off as some weird glitch in his sensing power.

Now he knew better.

Those were memories, not figments of his imagination.

And meeting Bianca had stirred up these recollections stronger than anything had before.

"Bianca." He muttered, his throat dry as he spoke. He had hardly uttered a word for the last half hour. But, as much as he did not want to speak to his parents, there was still one thing they had not addressed. "I knew Bianca."

It was more of a statement than a question. He knew that it had to be true and it was the only thing that explained the strangeness of their meeting. He had heard so many whispers when he was around her. She had brought forth fragments of his past more strongly than anyone had before.

He knew the moment he had met her that they had been in love.

That they _were_ in love.

There were certain things that could not be bound by time.

His mother closed her eyes for a moment before nodding. "Yes." She whispered. "You did know her…and she was your fiancée."

Chris felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him as his suspicions were confirmed. This was not a surprise per se, but hearing it said out loud made everything so much more real.

He also felt a fresh surge of anger flow through him. His parents had both known about her. Known that the woman he had loved was out there somewhere. And they had done _nothing_ about it.

What would have happened if he had not run into her that day in the wiccan shop? What if their paths had never crossed?

Were they willing to let him live his whole life without ever knowing her?

He hated the thought.

Chris' eyes narrowed and he felt his jaw tense as he looked at the two people who had kept so much from him.

"I deserved to know!" He hissed, his voice dripping with pain and anger. "What gave you the right to keep this from me!? Any of this!?"

"Chris, please." His father interjected with his annoyingly calm tone. "We were only trying to do what we thought was best for you."

"Shut up, Leo." Chris spat back, the words leaving his mouth without thought. "You don't know me."

He watched as his father flinched, the hurt evident on his face. The older man looked horrified and the automatic surge behind his statements made Chris wonder if he had said those things before.

It felt as if he was on autopilot all of a sudden.

Leo certainly looked as if he had been shaken to the core, as if rocked by a long-distant memory.

The young man almost felt bad for a moment. He had always been close to his father and he was not usually one to cause intentional pain—but then he remembered what he had just been told and his apology was quickly swallowed.

"Wyatt sent her back in time and she almost killed you, Chris. She cornered you and stripped your powers." Piper began again. "She was—is—a hired assassin. And she dragged you back to the future, right into your brother's grasp. If we hadn't managed to help you get your powers back you probably would have died! She was dangerous then and she's probably still dangerous now."

Chris tried not to balk at the news and he continued to stare ahead, stone-faced. Perhaps that version of Bianca had not turned her back on her coven, but that was not who she was now. And his mother's version was probably not the whole story.

It was hard to believe anything she said now.

"Whatever, mom." He quickly snapped back, rolling his eyes. "I don't need to hear any more of your lies." He paused. "If I've learned anything today it's that people aren't always what they seem. You—" Chris looked back and forth between his parents, "are supposed to be these almighty paragons of good magic, but you've kept this massive secret from me my entire life. Maybe you're not what you seem, and I _know_ that Bianca isn't want she seems."

Rage coursing through him, Chris stood up from his chair, shoving it back roughly as he did. "I've heard enough of your crap for one day." He finished, taking a step back from the two traitors in front of him.

Piper drew a sharp breath and looked towards her son with pleading eyes.

"Christopher, sweetheart, please. We love you. We never meant to hurt you."

"Well you did." He shot back as he prepared himself to orb away. "You hurt me more than I ever thought possible."

And with that, he dissolved into a flurry of blue.

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As the form of their youngest son faded from view Piper finally let out a loud sob. She felt her husband's arm reach around her and as she looked up she could see the tears welling in his eyes as well.

There was no question that that had been one of the most difficult mornings of her life. The look of confusion and pain in Chris' eyes had broken her heart and it had taken all of her strength to get through the entire grizzly story without completely breaking down.

He had not taken the revelations well—not that she had expected him too. But at least he had heard them out without orbing away. Everything was off of her chest now. After twenty-four years, the truth had finally been revealed.

That was something, at least.

"We should have told him sooner, Leo." The former Charmed One whispered, her hands clutching his green shirt for dear life. She was not sure what she would have done if he had not been at her side at that moment. It had been a painful ordeal for them both, but he was still her rock.

"It would have been hard, no matter what." The man replied, drawing a shaky breath as he rand a comforting hand through her hair. "He wouldn't have understood as a child. And we agreed that we didn't want to him to feel defined by the past. He had to become his own person. If we had told him five, or even ten, years ago, he would have been just as upset. I think this is something that we will just have to get though. Together."

Piper gave a reluctant nod into his chest as she tried to stifle her sobs.

It felt good to let her emotions flow, but she was already raw and overcome. If she did not try to pull herself together, she would never muster up the strength to carry on.

"The look of betrayal in his eyes." She whispered, recalling the look Chris had given them both. "He looked so much like…him."

She had seen that exact same look before. From the boy she had not yet known to be her son. Piper had been so full of distrust and rage back then and, after future Chris had told them that Wyatt was the evil he had come back to stop, she had told him to leave. Forever.

After she had found out the truth about his identity she had been riddled with guilt for the way she had banished him.

And that look of pain had never left her memory.

She had never wanted to see it again. Never wanted to betray him again.

But she just had.

She had failed him.

"He's almost twenty-four. Again." Leo said softly, his voice cracking as he spoke. It had been a long time now, and the joy of having Chris reborn had helped to temper the pain, but the loss they had experienced on that fateful day had never truly left.

Especially for Leo.

He had been there as his son had faded away and he had nearly lost his mind as he sought revenge for that terrible injustice.

This birthday had been looming for a long time now and it had been both wonderful and painful to see their son grow into the handsome whitelighter from the future they once knew. This version of Chris was similar in so many ways—he was smart, driven, stubborn, gentle and kind. But he did not carry the burden that his former self had.

This Chris had had a happy life. His brother had never become an evil overload, his mother had not died young and his father had been there for him every step of the way. The bitterness and stress that the other Chris had carried had never been present…until now.

She had seen glimpses of it on his face during the past few weeks. When Phoebe had died and, even more so, when he had been assigned to protect the new Charmed Ones. In a short time, her little boy had become more serious. More burdened by his fate.

As a mother, she had wanted to protect him from it. But, instead, she had just made it worse.

Now he had these new revelations to grapple with.

Piper had not wanted to tell him—but as soon as her husband had told her that he had met Bianca, she had known that there was no longer any choice. The girl was dangerous, and there was no way to explain that to him without telling him the whole story. Plus, if this aspect of his past had resurfaced, there was no telling what memories might follow.

Telling him had been just as horrible as she feared, but that had become the only option.

"He's going to be okay this time." Piper finally replied, wishing she felt more certain then she felt. Every oracle and expert they had consulted assured them that this Chris would have a different fate, and that they did not have to fear anything as that birthday approached.

Chris would not die again, they said.

But that did not quell all her worries. It was less than a week away now and, as Halliwell luck would have it, it was also the only day to vanquish her sister's killer. She hated how it had all aligned so terribly—and her plan to hold Chris close as he finally surpassed the age of his former self now seemed even less likely than before.

He hated her now. Hated them both.

And Piper had no idea if, or when, they would get past that.

"He called me Leo." She heard her husband whisper, his green eyes gazing out towards the autumn sun. "He hasn't called me Leo since…"

"I know." Piper whispered back, knowing how much it must have pained him. Leo had worked so hard to form a bond with his younger son this time around and she had been thrilled to see a deep connection form between them.

Chris was so much like his father, and it had warmed her heart every time Chris had beamed with delight under his dad's doting gaze.

When Chris had been younger, Thursdays had been an evening set aside for father-son time. Baseball games, whitelighter practice, mini-golf, surfing at the beach…no matter what the activity, the boy had always bounded into the house with a grin on his face.

She had to believe that nothing could erase all those years of joy.

Not even this.

"You're a wonderful father, Leo." She said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Chris loves you. He always has."

There was a short pause and she watched as Leo frowned, perhaps recalling more distant memories. "Not always." He said softly, shaking his head. There was another long pause. "I hope we haven't lost him."

Piper felt lump building in her throat once again and she was unable to stop more tears from falling as she thought about her baby boy.

Her children were everything to her and she refused to think of a world where they were not part of her life.

She could understand why Chris felt angry and betrayed, but she prayed that he would manage to move past it. In time.

"I can't lose him again." She whispered back.

They had already lost so much.

Too much.

Piper could not survive another blow.

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A/N- Tell me what you think! Thank you to those who have been reviewing- it keeps me going!


	14. Chapter 14

"Chris, slow down, you're not making any sense!"

"Just a second." Chris replied as he placed a small crystal in another corner of the small apartment. "There." He proclaimed, finally drawing a deep breath. "That should do it."

Bianca looked at him with confusion, her morning coffee now forgotten on a nearby table. She had been relaxing with a book when he had orbed in unexpectedly and the young woman had been surprised to see him at this early hour. She had been even more surprised by his frantic dash around her one-bedroom apartment and had tried to question him as he placed tiny blue crystals in every corner.

"Do what?" She asked, clearly hoping to get some answers.

Chris drew a deep breath before dropping into the nearest chair and running a hand through his dark hair. There was no masking the stress on his face and he was grateful that he did not feel the need to hide anything around her anymore.

Their time together had been brief (well, in tis timeline anyway) and she had been the first person he had thought of when he orbed away from his parents.

He was angry, and sad, and overwhelmed—and the only person he wanted to see right now was her.

"The crystals block whitelighters from sensing us." He explained, letting out a heavy sigh.

Bianca's confusion continued to grow and she slowly made her way back to the couch where she sat perched on the edge, facing him. "And why do you want to block whitelighers all of a sudden?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

The man let out another long sigh. "I don't want my family to find me." He finally answered, looking up at her with a pained expression. "I needed to get away."

Her gaze was sympathetic and she waited patiently for him to explain further. She could easily sense that there was more to the story.

"I…" He began hesitantly, wringing his hands together as he spoke. "I sort of mentioned you last night. And my dad and aunt started acting weird—but then the Charmed Ones were attacked by Quintu and I didn't really find out what was going on until this morning." He paused, shaking his head as he recalled the scene he had just left behind. It made him sick to think of all that his parents had kept hidden from him and his mind was still racing to process everything that he had been told.

It seemed unbelievable. Surreal.

But, then again, nothing about his life had ever been normal.

"My mom and dad were sitting in the kitchen when I came downstairs, talking about me. About us." The young woman nodded slowly, the worry evident in her face. She, like he had initially, probably assumed that they disapproved of her ambiguous heritage. But that was not really the crux of it, as he began to explain.

"I know it sounds completely crazy, but apparently another version of me came back in time before I was born. To warn the Charmed Ones about an evil that was after Wyatt." He let out a short, bitter laugh. "But it turned out that the evil _was_ Wyatt. Another version of my brother was an evil overlord who exposed magic and took over the world."

"Okay…" Bianca said slowly, prompting him to continue. Chris knew that he was talking quickly, but he hoped that he was still managing to make sense.

"I—or rather, an alternate me—time travelled to change the future. I pretended to be a whitelighter and took over for my dad when he went off to be an elder." Chris paused as he tired to grapple with that fact. He had heard his parents' say it, but it felt even stranger to say it out loud. "I spent over a year and a half as the Charmed Ones whitelighter." He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "And then I died saving Wyatt."

It was odd to picture himself watching over a younger version of his mother and her sisters. And he did not know how he felt about the fact that history had already begun to repeat itself. Chris had thought that he had been taking on a new job when he agreed to protect his cousins. Yet it felt more comfortable and logical than he had initially felt possible.

Now he knew why.

This role wasn't new to him.

He had done it before, in his previous life. And now he felt less in control than he ever had before. It felt as if his role had been laid out for him before he had even been born.

Was anything in his life up to him? Or was it all predestined? Set in motion by another Chris?

"And at some point during that time," Chris continued, looking towards the beautiful woman who was currently hanging on to his every word. "You came back in time too, to drag me to the future." He hesitated. "Wyatt sent you."

He watched as Bianca's eyes widened, mortified by the thought. He hadn't really thought about how he was going to tell her about this (it was all too raw, and simply flowed out) and he hoped that she would not feel guilty. That hadn't really been her. She was not who she had once been.

"Chris, I'm sorry, I had—"

"No, don't say that." He cut her off, his voice gentler than it had been before. "That was an entirely different timeline. It's not the real you." He paused again. "And there must be more to the story because apparently we were also…"

The young man trailed off for a moment, an unexpected flush spreading across his cheeks.

"What?" She questioned.

As crazy as all of this was, he felt that she had the right to know. Even if it scared her away. He refused to hide the truth like his parents once had.

"In that timeline, we were engaged." He said.

Silence fell across the room as Bianca stared ahead, processing this new information.

Chris could not blame her for being overwhelmed. Hell, he was overwhelmed. Even by that one silver lining that felt so right.

Although it solved the mystery of their instant attraction to each other it was still strange to think about their former selves. They had already fallen in love once before. At the age of twenty-three, his former self had decided to spend his life with her.

Part of him wanted to resist his urges, just to prove that he was an entirely different person now. But the fact was he wasn't.

This was all so new to him and it would take a long time to figure things out, but it was difficult to know just how much the former Chris had become part of him. He did not feel like an entirely different being. There were the dreams and flashes that he had always had, and so much of his life seemed to be unfolding in a way that corresponded to what had come before. According to his parents, he had been stabbed by the elder who betrayed them and faded out of existence the very moment his current self had been born.

But people didn't usually just fade away. Maybe it hadn't been a true death? Maybe it had just been the start of a new cycle.

Was the other Chris _really_ another Chris, or were they truly one and the same?

One thing was for certain—no matter the timeline, he could not deny the love he felt for the woman in front of him. He didn't want to deny it either.

He could only pray that she was not scared off by this unsettling turn of events.

"Oh my god." He heard her whisper as she looked down at the wooden floor. Chris' stomach flopped—this was it, his head screamed. She was going to turn her back on him too.

He would be well and truly alone.

But, to his surprise, she looked up at him again with flash of exhilaration in her eyes. "It makes sense!" She stated, her voice more forceful then it had been before.

Chris watched, perplexed, as Bianca jumped up from her spot and dashed into the bedroom. There was a rustling sound as she searched for something and she returned less then a minute later, something grasped firmly in the palm of her hand.

It was his turn to look up in confusion.

"When I was about three," she began, squeezing her hand tight. "My mom and I fled our apartment for a bit. I didn't remember much, but she said something about good witches looking for us." Bianca paused, recalling the distant memory. "My mother was never the same after that day." She continued, shaking her head in disbelief. "That was when she started to draw back from the coven. Stopped taking on jobs as an assassin. I always wondered exactly what happened, but she never really spoke about it, even years later." There was another brief pause. "But I do remember when we came back to our apartment. The place was a total mess, and my mom said someone had come to look for our family Grimoire. That was twenty-four years ago, Chris." She continued, her eyes wide. "I bet you anything it was me!"

The young man stared at her, his mind racing as he tried to process that information. It made sense, he mused. If Bianca had come back in time to get him all those years ago it wasn't unreasonable to think that she had come to her mother in need of magical resources. She would have had to get them back to the future, after all.

And maybe something she had said convinced her mother to change their fate.

It seemed unbelievable, but it was no crazier than everything else he had learned that day.

"I was young, but I remember trying to help her tidy up. Something had clearly happened there." Bianca continued, shaking her head again as the pieces fell into place. "There was a chalk triquetra on the wall," she recalled, "and when I began to pick up things near the cabinet I found this on the floor."

Bianca finally opened her hand and revealed what she had gone to the bedroom to fetch.

It was a ring.

Simple white gold with a single diamond in the centre.

Chris felt an instant headrush and he knew that he had seen that ring before…even though he hadn't.

"It was us." The young man whispered, his eyes even wider than they had been before. "We were in your apartment, and we left that behind."

She nodded, clearly reaching the same conclusion. "I never knew why I kept it for all these years." Bianca began, looking down at the simple item that had once meant so much. "I just had a feeling, I guess. It seemed important, and I could never let it go."

He continued to stare in disbelief.

Chris was unbelievably grateful that Bianca did not seem angry or daunted by what he had revealed—in fact, she seemed almost relieved as some of the mysteries that had loomed over her were suddenly solved. He was quite certain that there was still more to discover (and, unfortunately, his parents were probably the only ones who could fill in more of the gaps), but it did feel good to make sense of what had been going on.

"You're not…this isn't too much?" He asked, needing just a bit more reassurance.

Much to his relief, she smiled.

"I mean, it's definitely weird." She replied with a small shrug. "But magic is always weird. And this is nothing that we can't deal with."

Chris paused for a moment, surprised and impressed by her level-headed reaction. It was a far cry from his own response, he mused. He had been furious at his parents for withholding this information for so long and yet Bianca was taking it in stride. Wasn't she supposed to be the fiery one and he the calm pacifist?

"They should have told me." Chris began again, referring to his mother and father. "We both deserved to know."

Bianca simply shrugged again. "I get why you're pissed off, Chris." She began, offering him another reassuring smile. "It's crazy, and it's a lot to take in at once. But would you really have wanted to grow up knowing?"

He opened his mouth to reply but no words came out.

The truth was he was not sure. Yeah, he was mad right now—but how could they have possibly told him all of this as a child? And how would that have affected his life? Wyatt's life?

As his mother had said earlier, he probably would have grown up feeling as if he was living in his own shadow.

They could have at least told him a bit sooner, he mused bitterly—but a small voice in the back of his head began to wonder just how difficult this had been for them. When they had spoken that morning, he could sense their pain as they recalled these past events. His mother had nearly broken down several times and his father had looked more shaken then he had ever seen him.

And could he really blame him? Apparently, his father had watched him die. The lying and deception aside, Chris knew that his dad loved him and he couldn't imagine how hard that had been.

Of course they had not been keen to talk about it, even if it was the right thing to do.

"I don't know what to do now, Bianca." He replied honestly, his head heavy with confusion and exhaustion. "They're my parents." He paused, letting out a deep sigh. "I know they love me, but I'm not sure if I can face them right now. It's too much."

She nodded, clearly understanding, before reaching out to take his hand in hers.

"You can stay here as long as you need to." She replied warmly.

He had not expected such an open invitation but he smiled gratefully. Being with Bianca had already done so much to calm him and talking it through with her was probably his best shot at healing right now. Somehow, she seemed to know just what to say and was probably the only person capable to talking him down from the ledge.

"Are you sure?" He asked, hoping that she did not feel obligated. "To be fair, we only just met."

This was the first time he had been to her apartment, and he had burst in unannounced after sensing her location. And yet she was already extending an open invitation.

Bianca gave a short chuckle. "If anything, today confirms that we didn't just meet." She said, clearly amused by his inability to stop worrying. They both glanced down at the ring she had placed on the coffee table and Chris was surprised to see a slight flush on her cheeks.

"Come on, I'll make us some breakfast and we can spend the day relaxing. It'll help, I promise."

He nodded in agreement, unable to resist such a tempting offer.

Another day with Bianca, free from the burdens of his family's past.

That was exactly what he needed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By some miracle, the Halliwell's had actually left him alone for over twenty-four hours.

Sure, he had made it pretty clear that he was angry and in need of space when he had orbed out of the kitchen (and he had blocked Bianca's apartment from detection by other whitelighters). But still. It was unusual for his family to actually listen to him in a time of crisis.

For most of the previous afternoon, he had jumped at the sound of any outside noise, fearing that his mother had managed to track him down and had come to drag him home.

But Piper had not appeared and, much to his relief, neither had anybody else. By the late evening, he had finally managed to relax with Bianca in his arms. They had spent a blissfully normal night watching a movie and chatting…before picking up where they had left off a few days ago in Paris.

He had woken up feeling more relaxed and at ease then he had in a long while. Thankfully, his only Monday class was not until six and Bianca was working the later shift at the studio where she taught self-defence classes, so they had been able to enjoy much of the day relaxing once more.

Until about two o'clock, when a familiar voice began to echo through his head.

They had been finishing up a late lunch when it happened and Bianca had looked at him with confusion as he closed his eyes and groaned.

"What is it?"

The young man let out a sigh. It had only been a matter of time and he was, at least, in a better state than he had been in the previous day.

"Someone is calling me." He explained. Chris had put his parents on mute yesterday—but apparently, he had forgotten about his Aunt. "It's Paige."

Bianca put the last of the plates into the sink before turning back to face him, her body leaning against the marble counter. "Do you want to talk to her?"

Chris shrugged as he contemplated his answer. All of his anger had not faded, of course. But he did feel a bit better and his rage was not really directed towards his aunt (even though he had withheld the truth too). Plus, the more he thought about things the more questions had sprung to mind—she was the only living person, aside from his parents, who might be able to answer them.

"I guess it can't hurt." Chris replied as he stood up and tucked in his chair. He paused for a moment, sensing her location. "She's on the bridge, not at the manor." He muttered out loud, somewhat relieved that he would not have to go home to have his questions answered.

Bianca raised an eyebrow.

"What, do you mean the Golden Gate Bridge?" She asked, clearly perplexed.

Chris gave an amused smile. "Yeah, it's kinda been a family meeting spot for decades." He replied, wondering who had started the tradition. "Well, for those of us with whitelighter powers anyway. We tend to like high places."

The girl shook her head in disbelief and Chris had to agree that it was a rather unusual spot. "The closer to the heavens the better, is that it?" She asked as she gave him a playful wink.

She knew full well that he did not love his association with the powers that be and he knew that she was egging him on. The young man wrinkled his nose in distaste but the fact of the matter was he could not really deny her statement. Getting high above the daily rush had always been comforting for him and his father had often pointed out how much easier it was to get in touch with one's whitelighter senses from above.

Bianca was probably right, even though he didn't really want to admit it.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." He said before taking a few strides towards her and giving her a quick kiss.

She smiled and nodded.

After grabbing a blue crystal from the corner of the room and pocketing it to break the shield he had placed, Chris orbed away—he hurled through space, a heavenly chime ringing through his being, until he rematerialized on the historic bridge a few yards from his Aunt.

"Chris!" Paige proclaimed, rushing forward and giving him a tight hug the moment she caught sight of him. "I didn't actually think that would work, but I had to try! We've all been worried sick."

He shrugged, somewhat annoyed with himself for giving in so easily.

"Why did you call me?" He asked, trying to keep his voice as steady and neutral as possible. Before he had left, he had promised himself that he would keep his cool, no matter what.

But that was already harder than he had anticipated.

"To talk." She replied simply, a gust of wind ruffling her shoulder length brown hair. "We could go back to the manor if that would be more comfortable."

Chris shook his head resolutely, not yet ready for that. "No." He said firmly, folding his arms across his chest as a thought crossed his mind. "Did mom force you to summon me?"

His aunt snorted before shaking her head as well. "Nope." Paige said earnestly. "I wanted to talk to you, Chris. On my own." She tilted her head to the side, examining him for a brief moment. "I know it's hard to accept that you led another life, but I'm glad they finally told you. I've watched you grow into the young man I once knew and it has become harder and harder to keep everything from you. But it was your parents' decision to make, not mine."

He let out a small snort of annoyance. It was nice to hear that she had not wanted to lie to him, but it annoyed him that she had so easily relented. "Their decision?" He asked, rolling his eyes. "It was—is—my life." He pointed out. Shouldn't he have had more control?

"Of course." His Aunt replied sympathetically. "But you didn't know about it and it was their responsibility to raise you and care for you. We all knew that there would never be a good time, but we also knew that you deserved to know." She paused for a moment. "Isn't it better that they told you eventually rather than not at all?" She asked, looking towards her nephew. "They never planned to keep your past life a secret forever, even though they could have. It was just…difficult."

"Yeah, it's difficult." Chris agreed with a note of bitterness in his voice.

But he had to admit that his Aunt made a fair point. His mom and dad didn't have to tell him at all—that clearly would have been easier for them. Sure, meeting Bianca had brought up all sorts of strange emotions and flashes, but they easily could have dismissed them as some other magical force.

But instead, they had told him the truth. Not matter how painful it was for them.

It was better late than never, right?

"We were close back then, you know." Paige began again, her eyes cast down towards the red metal of the bridge. "In the end."

Chris looked at her, waiting for more.

"As I think they told you, we didn't know who you were at first." She said, a slight smile crossing her face at the memory. "You told us you were just a regular whitelighter and we believed you. Stupidly." The woman continued, glancing up at him. It was a bit strange to think that they hadn't recognized him back then—he had spent his entire life being told that he was the spitting image of his mother. Piper's face and Leo's eyes, everyone always said. "I know, I know." Paige continued as if reading his mind. "We should have seen it. You look like your mother and you act like your father! But even when we found out you were half-witch we still didn't figure it out."

Despite the levity of the conversation, Chris could not suppress an amused grin. "So you thought witch-whitelighters who happened to have all of the Halliwell features were just common place in the future?" He asked, eliciting a snort from his aunt.

Even now, his aunt and his siblings were the only ones of their kind in existence. The elders had never made an exception for anyone else, and they probably never would.

"Well it's ridiculous in retrospect." She conceded, throwing up her hands. "But meeting a twenty-three-year-old version of your unborn nephew is pretty crazy as well. So we didn't figure it out." Paige paused again. "Well, Phoebe did. Eventually."

He felt a pang in his chest at the mention of his deceased Aunt's name and he could not help but recall that day he had heard her strange question at the club.

 _Are you Wyatt's little brother?_

He was certain that she really had asked him that question once, in the distant past.

"Once we found out, during the last few months that you were here, we actually hung out quite a bit." She said, gesturing between them. A sad smile flickered across her face. "I was only a couple of years older than you at it was the first time I'd ever met a grown-up witchlighter. Everything was still relatively new to me then and you helped me feel less alone."

It was weird to think about but somehow he knew it was all true.

His youngest Aunt had always felt more like a sister and a friend to him, especially during the past few years, and he had never really understood why. He'd always assumed that it was because of their unusual shared heritage but now he knew it was even more than that.

They had been friends once.

Peers.

"You challenged me to a drinking contest once, didn't you?" He blurted out suddenly, eliciting a jolt of surprise from the older woman. "And it ended with us both orbing to the Great Wall of China."

Paige's eyes were wide with surprise and she nodded slowly. "I never told anyone that. Not even your mom." She paused. "Especially not your mom." She amended with a chuckle. "You taught me how to throw orbs into the air that night. It was a miracle no one saw us."

There was a short silence.

"How did you know that? Do you remember?"

Chris hesitated, not really sure how to answer. The truth was he had dreamt it once and brushed it off as nothing. Even now, it didn't really feel like a memory. Just a fragment.

"Not exactly." He replied, letting out a long breath. "It's not like I have two sets of memories—two personalities—in my head vying for space or anything." Chris looked at his surprised aunt. "But I've always had strange dreams. And sometimes, when I go somewhere new, I hear whispers. I figured everyone did and I never thought much of it. But it makes so much more sense now."

She nodded before he continued.

"I don't really know what to make of it," he said, hoping should could provide some sort of guidance. "Am I me? Am I him? Am I going to remember everything that happened in that horrible past one day, or am I an entirely new person now?"

He could feel his heart pound as these confusing thoughts swirled in his mind. This had all been thrown at him so fast and he was still so disoriented.

It was strange to think that, three short weeks ago, everything had seemed so clear. He had a stable family, academic success, a plan for a career and a sense of who he was.

Now, everything had changed.

His aunt was dead, a demon was after them, his cousins were the Charmed Ones and he was their whitelighter…and just when he had finally been starting to get a handle on all of _that_ , his parents had told him about his former self.

"How am I supposed to deal with all of this, Aunt Paige?" He asked, suddenly feeling more like a helpless child than he had in years.

He wished that it would all simply go away.

But he knew he had no choice but to figure things out.

As always, everything was beyond his control.

"I don't have the answers, Chris. I'm sorry." His aunt answered, moving forward until she could lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But knowing you—both then and now—I can't help but see so many similarities. Your life has been different, and you're not defined by who he was. But your soul—your essence—is timeless." She paused, a slight redness now visible in her eyes. "I watched you fade away and then I held you in my arms. Somehow, I always knew that you were still _you_. But I hope you'll never have to fully remember what he experienced and every day I'm grateful that you got a second chance to be everything I knew you could be."

Chris did not resist as she pulled him into another tight hug and he nodded slowly as she drew away.

It was still strange and confusing but hearing things from her perspective helped. He had always trusted her instincts and he hoped that reconciling these two aspects of himself would become easier over time.

"Is…how is everyone?" He finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

He still wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to go home, but he knew he was not the only one struggling right now.

Paige let out a deep sigh, "Well, your mom is a basket case, of course." She began. "And your dad is in pretty rough shape too."

Chris felt a pang of guilt at this remark. He had not been kind the last time he spoke to his father and the look of hurt on the man's face flashed across his mind.

"The other you had a difficult relationship with your father." She continued to explain. "Apparently, he chose to embrace his elder duties in that timeline and wasn't really around. But your dad has worked so hard to change that. I think he's worried that he ruined everything again."

Chris felt his stomach flop as he slowly shook his head. Sure, he had been mad at his parents and was still hurt—but there was no denying that they loved him. That was something that would never be thrown into doubt.

"And they told Wyatt." His Aunt stated somberly, looking down once more. "I haven't really talked to him—he's been up in the attic a lot, saying that he wants to be left alone."

"Oh." Chris replied softly, suddenly filled with worry for his big brother.

Wyatt was such an easy-going and good-natured guy. It was part of his identity. Hearing about his former life would not have been easy for him and he probably wasn't taking it very well.

As confusing and overwhelming as this was for Chris, at least he could take refuge in the fact that he had always been _good._

He had saved the world that his brother had once destroyed…

"Do you think he'd talk to me?" He asked, looking at his aunt with wide eyes.

The woman gave a slow shrug. "I don't know, Chris." She answered honestly as another cool gust of wind rushed past. "You could try."

He watched as a small smile formed on her lips. "To be fair, I didn't think you'd talk to me, and you did. So I guess anything is possible."

Despite the many challenges that lay ahead, Chris smiled back. "Thanks for calling me, Aunt Paige." He replied. "I think I needed this." There was a short pause. "It's good to know that you've always been there for me."

"And I always will be." She replied.

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A/N- Thanks so much to those who reviewed! I hope this aftermath is realistic but not too dragged out! Let me know.


	15. Chapter 15

After touching base with Bianca and letting her know that he was okay, Chris had finally orbed back to the manor.

He had never expected to return so soon but seeing his aunt had remined him of what the rest of the family was going through and his anger had begun to wane.

Although he was worried that his brother might be annoyed by his unexpected arrival, he went directly to the attic—he wanted to talk to Wyatt before finally facing his parents.

As soon as he materialized, Wyatt looked up from a book he was reading and offered him a surprising smile. Chris instantly felt a wave of relief wash over him—maybe Aunt Paige had been wrong about his brother not taking the news of his former life well? At first glance, he seemed okay.

"Hey little bro, what's up?" The older man said, setting the book beside him on the couch.

Chris was taken aback by his chipper tone for a moment but quickly tried to gather his thoughts.

"Well, a lot is up, actually." Chris replied slowly, looking his brother up and down. "As I think you know."

A brief silence hung in the air and he watched as Wyatt struggled to keep his smile on his face. Clearly, this chipper demeanour was some sort of façade. "Oh, that." The man replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I took a day off work to sort things out. But it'll all be fine soon. Don't worry."

Chris furrowed his brow in confusion. The blonde wasn't making much sense and he needed further clarification.

"It is fine." The younger Halliwell pointed out. "I mean, it's a shock and I'm still kinda pissed that mom and dad never told us—but once we accept it we'll be okay." He paused. "Right?"

Wyatt gave another smile as he glanced at the book he had just placed down.

"Like I said, it'll be fine soon." His brother replied again.

Annoyed with the cryptic nature of his response, Chris took a few long strides until he was able to make out what exactly Wyatt had been reading.

 _Binding Powerful Magical Beings_ , the cover of the old tome read in blazing gold letters.

Mouth falling open in surprise, Chris looked back up at his brother.

"You're not serious, Wy." He said in disbelief. The Wyatt he knew would never dream of binding his powers—he loved magic and had always embraced it way more than Chris had. This was definitely out of character for him and Chris now knew that Wyatt was not taking the news of his former self as well as he appeared to be.

He saw a flash of defiance on his brother's face as his cheerful mask finally began to falter.

"Why wouldn't I be serious?" He replied challengingly, placing a hand on the book. "I have more powers than any witch in history—mom and dad always told me not to worry—told me that I have always been a force of good. But we both know that's not really true now, don't we?"

Chris understood why his brother was unnerved by the recent revelations—but this was taking things too far. That future had not come to pass and there was no doubt that his brother was a positive force.

"You are good, Wyatt." He quickly replied, hoping to quell this irrational tirade. "That version of you was kidnapped and tortured for months. You weren't. You've spent your life saving innocents and fighting demons."

The older brother snorted, clearly unconvinced. "The potential has always been there, Chris." He pointed out stubbornly. "I probably shouldn't exist. I'm a threat. But I'm here, so the least I can do is bind my powers so that everyone else is safe."

" _Wyatt wasn't brought into this world to be bound."_ He heard his father's voice whisper, a sudden memory surging to the surface.

Chris knew enough now to realize that this very topic had once been discussed—and dismissed—long ago.

"Your powers aren't supposed to be bound." Chris replied, echoing Leo's distant words.

"We're not supposed to exist." Wyatt shot back.

The younger brother could not stop himself from staring for a moment, shocked by his brother's insistence. He had clearly been grappling with several unhappy thoughts during the past day and this was not something he had ever heard the older man express.

Chris drew a deep breath, steadying himself. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Wyatt didn't hesitate. "You know exactly what I mean, Chris." He replied, looking up at his brother. "Unions between witches and whitelighters were banned for a reason." He began, no longer bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone. "I'm the reason. I shouldn't be here. I'm dangerous." He finished, pointing towards himself.

The young man snorted. Wyatt was being ridiculous (but, he recalled, he'd had his moments of ranting too when he had found out). "And me?" He pressed, shooting the older man a glare. "You don't think I should exist either? What about Paige and Mel?"

The blonde shrugged as he paused for a moment, formulating his reply.

"I have way more powers than anyone should." He retorted, repeating what he had said before. "And you—you're the only _living_ person in history to have every whitelighter power. You and Paige were forced into whitelighter duty without any choice. Maybe Mel will be too one day. That's not how it's supposed to be, Chris, and you know it."

As much as he hated to admit it, Chris had to concede that Wyatt struck a chord. He had argued against that same injustice himself a few short weeks ago and had struggled when the elders had informed him that he had simply been born into this role, willing or not.

Sure, he had started to accept it now, and he wouldn't turn his back on his cousins—but it wasn't really fair. Every other whitelighter in history had a choice.

"You know," Wyatt began again. "I wondered why you got called up for whitelighter duty before I did." He said, tilting his head as he examined his younger brother. "But now we know why that is too. You're a beacon of good. You've _always_ been good. You saved the god damn world…from me." The man continued forcefully. "But I'm not like you, Chris. Being good wasn't always my fate."

The dark-haired brother did his best to suppress an eyeroll as he continued to stare ahead.

This was crazy, he thought to himself. They simply had different destinies—that did not mean Wyatt was meant to be evil. They had both been raised surrounded by goodness and light.

What happened in the old timeline had been a blip, brought on by a misguided and malicious elder.

A sudden thought popped into his mind.

"You can't bind all of your powers anyway, Wyatt." He pointed out, recalling more of his uncomfortable conversations Up There. "I told you a few weeks ago—we've never been human and that means we can't clip our wings. You can't get rid of your whitelighter powers."

The older brother scowled for a moment before regaining his composure. "Fine, so I'll still be able to orb, sense and heal. At least none of those are offensive powers. I won't be able to fight."

Chris scoffed again.

"I don't see why that's a good thing, Wyatt." He began, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I get that it's upsetting to find out about the other version of yourself. But that's not you. Think about all of the people you've saved over the years!" He pointed out, hoping the other man would begin to listen to reason. "Hell, you've saved my life more times then I can count! If you get rid of your powers this family is going to be more vulnerable and I don't think any of us want that. The girls need your help now more than ever! You'd be letting Aunt Phoebe down! You'd be letting all of us down!"

There was a heavy silence as Chris finished and he watched his brother look down at the attic's dusty floor. He could sense that he had finally gotten though, at least a little, and he waited patiently for Wyatt to reply.

"I'll help with Quintu." The twice-blessed said, his voice gentler than it had been before. This was the Wyatt he was used to, Chris mused with relief. "But I can't make any promises after that."

Chris gave another sigh but silently decided that he had made enough progress for now. The twice-blessed wasn't going to do anything irrational for the time being. Wyatt would come to his senses during the next week, he was sure of it. It was just going to take a bit more time.

They all needed time.

"You know, you really do sound like dad sometimes." Wyatt commented, finally cracking a genuine smile.

Chris snorted. "Is that a compliment?" He asked, his voice more lighthearted than it had been before.

The older man shrugged. "I don't know. Is sounding like a ninety-eight-year old guardian angel a good thing or not?" He shot back.

With a good-natured scoff, Chris sent a nearby pillow magically hurling towards his brother's head. Wyatt held up his hands in self defence, freezing it and swatting it away before it could strike.

That was more like old times, Chris thought with relief.

"Speaking of the old man," Chris began, glancing towards the door. "Is dad home?"

Wyatt nodded, the smile slowly disappearing from his face. Clearly, he still needed a bit of space.

"The sunroom, I think. As usual."

After a quick thanks Chris turned and began his trek out of the room. Things were far from being settled, but he hoped they could get through the next few days in peace.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dad?"

Chris found Leo where Wyatt had predicted, and he had paused in the doorway for a moment before deciding to speak. He could still feel sparks of anger flashing below the surface, especially when he had first caught sight of his father's frame, but he did his best to steady himself.

He knew that he had been harsh yesterday—and after what he had learned from Aunt Paige, he had felt unsettled about how they had left things in the kitchen. Perhaps his anger had been bolstered by the whisper of his former life but he reminded himself that this version of his father had been there for him.

The man had always been his hero, and he would always be grateful for all that he had taught him.

No revelation, no matter how shocking, could ever change that.

Leo turned his head abruptly his eyes filling with relief and worry as he caught sight of his youngest son. He had been sitting alone, staring out the sunroom window, and Chris could tell that he was still feeling the stress of the previous day.

"Chris," he said, his voice a worried whisper.

The young man slowly made his way into the room and sat across from his father, his shoulders slumping forward as he tried to think of what to say. He wanted to make amends, while still making it clear that he was upset—and he had no idea how to strike that balance.

"I didn't sense you come in." Leo said, breaking the somewhat tense silence that had fallen.

"Oh. Yeah." Chris muttered before closing his eyes for a moment and concentrating on the internal barrier he had raised the previous morning. He quickly let it down. "I kinda blocked you."

Leo looked dejected. His son had never done that before.

"Well, I blocked everyone actually. Except Prue, Peyton and Parker." He clarified, not wanting his dad to think he had singled him out. "I just needed a bit of space."

The man nodded slowly. Chris could see the sympathy in his gaze. "I get that." He began slowly. His voice was more cautious than Chris was accustomed to—perhaps he was worried about setting his son off again and Chris felt another pang of guilt at the thought. "I'm sorry we upset you. I knew it wouldn't be easy, and it wasn't."

"Look, dad." He began again, his hand fidgeting with the side of the wicker chair. "You're right, I was really pissed off yesterday. And I'm still trying to process all of this. But I didn't mean to hurt you."

Chris was relieved to see his dad relax slightly.

Leo already looked more like the father he had always known and loved.

There was a brief pause before the young man spoke again.

"In the past," he inquired, still wanting to know more. "We didn't get along, did we?"

His dad hesitated before shaking his head, forlorn at the thought.

"No, we didn't," he replied with a sad sigh. "I didn't trust you at first, and that created tension. And when I found out who you were I also found out how horrible things had been between us where you came from." The older man paused, recalling the horrible thoughts he wished he could keep buried. "You hated me, Chris." He said, his voice faltering as he spoke. "And just when we were starting to make amends," the man's voice began to quiver, "you were killed."

Leo paused and Chris watched as he tried to regain his composure.

There was no doubt that it was hard for his father to recount all of this. Even briefly. Chris did his best to muster a sympathetic smile.

"I only managed to keep it together because you weren't really gone. But even then, I nearly lost my mind with grief."

Chris let out a long, slow breath as he tried to formulate his response. Part of him wanted to apologize for the hatred his past self had, apparently, harboured. But he didn't remember much of that, aside from a few hazy feelings and whispers.

And he was still struggling to make sense of where his past self ended and his current self began.

He did, however, remember how he had stormed out yesterday morning. It seemed logical to start there.

"I called you Leo back then, didn't I?" He asked, recalling the moment he had seen his father's heart crumble.

Shouting at him. Calling him by his name. That had clearly hurt the man more than he had known.

His father nodded, a slight redness now in his eyes. "Yeah." He replied, his voice soft. "You did start calling me dad eventually though. After a lot of pushing from your mother and aunts."

Despite the current mood, Chris gave a small smile. He could almost picture that situation and he was glad that his former self had gotten there in the end.

" _Dad. Would it kill you to call him dad?"_ He heard Phoebe's voice whisper.

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. And we take full responsibility for that, I—"

Chris waved his hand, cutting his father off on mid sentence. He had not come to hear more apologies. He knew that they were sorry and that's not what this was about.

"It's okay, dad. I understand." He said, warmed by his father's instant expression of relief. "I talked to Aunt Paige and she told me a little more about the past." He said, explaining his current desire for reconciliation. "I'm still struggling to come to terms with all of this, but I wanted you to know that I don't hate you, okay?"

The first flickers of a smile appeared on Leo's face as Chris continued.

"You were always there for me, dad." He started, smiling back at the man who had helped him become who he was today. "All of the time we spent together—every little league game, every camping trip, every evening spent at the beach. Every time you dried my tears and told me it was going to be okay. That meant the world to me, and nothing can change that."

He paused, letting out a breath as he watched the relief and joy spread across his father's face.

Chris felt relieved as well. It felt good to affirm the bond he had always felt, even in the face of life-changing revelations.

"You're the best, dad. Sometimes, you know me better than I know myself."

"Chris, you have no idea how much it means to hear you say that." His father replied, his breaths finally slower and steadier than they had been before.

It felt as if a dark haze had been lifted from the room.

"I couldn't be prouder of the man you've become. The man you've always been." Leo began again, his green eyes welling with love as he looked at his youngest son. "You're brave, and tough, and smart and determined. And I know I haven't really said it yet, but when I found out you were destined to follow in my footsteps, I was overjoyed. I know you can tackle every challenge ahead of you. You're a natural healer, in all areas of your life. I'm humbled to think that I was lucky enough to play a role in that."

The young man smiled. He had indeed sensed his father's pride as soon as he announced that he was the Charmed One's new whitelighter (but the man had, wisely, kept his joy somewhat contained for his mother's sake).

It was nice to finally hear him say it outright and it made him feel better about the situation he was currently in.

"I'm trying my best." He replied, letting out a deep breath as his mind drifted to the week ahead. With all of the unrest caused by these recent revelations, Chris' mind had not been as focused on the vanquish that was looming closer with every passing day.

He suddenly felt a bit guilty for getting distracted but his father was quick to reassure him.

"You're handling it wonderfully." Leo said, another proud smile on his face. "I know that the girls couldn't do it without you—this is only just beginning, but you've already provided so much drive and support." He paused, glancing back towards the kitchen. "They started on the potion this morning, you know." The man continued. "They're going to take on this challenge—and so many more—because of your guidance and support."

Chris looked down as he felt a slight flush creep across his cheeks.

He was less convinced that he played such a crucial role, but he did his best to accept the praise. The young man doubted that he would ever be half the whitelighter that his father had been, but he was grateful that he had something to aspire to.

"Thanks, dad." He said, looking back up at his father before glancing towards the door.

"I should probably go check in with them." He noted, feeling more set on his task then he had for the last twenty-four hours. Chris hesitated for a moment. "Then I should probably talk to mom, too."

The older man smiled, impressed by how well his son had pulled himself together in the wake of his shock.

The last little while had been rough, but it was only a matter of time before all amends were made.

"I'm always here if you need anything." He replied, watching the as the lanky brunette stood up from his seat.

"I know."

Chris knew that his family was behind him and he could not stop another smile from spreading across his lips.

Everything was going to be okay.

For now, at least…


End file.
